mandrewmcconnell

Mental Jet Lag: Why Your Brain Wasn’t Built for the Age of AI

Tue, 28 Apr 2026 22:16:14 GMT

For roughly 199,800 of our 200,000 years on this planet, no human ever moved faster than a horse.

Think about that. Across nearly the entire arc of human evolution, the upper limit of how fast a body could be hurled across the surface of the earth was set by hooves. You could not, under any circumstances, eat breakfast in London and dinner in New York. The very idea of crossing five time zones in a day would have been incoherent — like asking someone in 1450 what their Wi-Fi password was.

Then, in the blink of an evolutionary eye, we built jets.

And our bodies have been paying interest on that loan ever since.

The Bargain We Made With Speed

Jet travel is, by almost any measure, miraculous. I can hug my daughter in Bermuda in the morning and shake a client’s hand in Los Angeles by dinner. Families separated by oceans get to be families. Markets that used to take six months to enter take six hours. Ideas, goods, and people move at a pace our great-grandparents would have found indistinguishable from magic.

But every frequent flyer knows the other side of the ledger. You get off the plane and your body is, quite literally, in the wrong time zone. Your circadian rhythm — a system tuned over millions of years to the rotation of a single planet — is suddenly out of sync with the sun outside your window. You can’t sleep when you should. You can’t stay awake when you need to. Your digestion is off. Your judgment is impaired (studies put a sleep-deprived, jet-lagged brain in the same cognitive ballpark as a legally drunk one). You feel, for a few days, like a slightly broken version of yourself.

This is what happens when technology lets the body travel faster than evolution prepared it to travel.

Here’s the thing: I think we’re now living through the cognitive version of the same story.

Welcome to Mental Jet Lag

For most of human history, a person could think one thought at a time, work on one problem at a time, hold one conversation at a time. Even the most brilliant polymath was bottlenecked by the simple fact that there was one of them.

Now? I can have four Claude tabs open writing in parallel. An agent in the background combing through my inbox. Another summarizing a 90-page report. A research tool building me a competitor analysis while I’m on a Zoom. I can — and on a busy day, I do — carry on a dozen “conversations” with various AI systems simultaneously, each operating at a pace no human collaborator could match.

The output is staggering. I get more done in a Tuesday morning than I used to get done in a week.

But somewhere around 4 p.m., something happens that I didn’t expect. It’s not the familiar exhaustion of a hard day’s work. It’s a different feeling — fuzzier, more diffuse. Like my brain has just stepped off a flight from somewhere it was never meant to go.

I’ve started calling this mental jet lag : the cognitive and physiological cost of operating at a pace your nervous system has not evolved to handle. And just like the airborne kind, it comes with a real bill — one most of us are paying without ever seeing the invoice.

The Symptoms

If you’re using AI tools heavily, see how many of these you recognize:

Decision fatigue at unusual hours. You’ve made more micro-judgments by lunch — “is this output good? does this draft work? should I refine or restart?” — than you used to make in a full day. Each is small. The pile is enormous.

The “fuzzy brilliance” feeling. You’re producing more, but you can’t quite remember what you produced. The work flowed through you rather than from you.

A weird kind of loneliness. Hours of “conversation” without a single human voice. The social pillar of human cognition — the thing that, biologically, has kept us regulated and resilient for 200,000 years — gets quietly skipped.

Compressed creative timelines that don’t actually feel creative. The marination time, the showering-and-suddenly-having-an-idea time, the “let me sleep on it” time — gone. Replaced with “let me prompt on it.”

Physical signs that mimic actual jet lag. Disrupted sleep. Tension headaches. The hollow-eyed look of someone who’s been staring at screens that talk back. Elevated cortisol. The body keeps the score, even when the score is being kept by an LLM.

The “infinite to-do list” effect. AI removes the friction that used to cap your ambition. The list of “things I could now do” expands faster than the list of “things I have done.” The gap is where anxiety lives.

None of this is an argument against AI. I am, demonstrably, an enthusiast. But I’m also someone who spent years learning the hard way that the ability to keep going is not the same as the presence of health. We are, once again, mistaking output for vitality. We are, once again, treating biological hardware like it can be indefinitely upgraded by professional software.

It can’t.

What We Can Learn From Jet Lag

Here’s the good news: humans are actually pretty experienced at this problem now. We’ve had about 70 years to figure out how to fly across the world and not feel like garbage when we arrive. The protocols are well-established. And almost all of them translate, with surprising precision, to the AI age.

Anchor your circadian rhythm. Frequent flyers know: get sunlight at the right local hour, and your body recalibrates. The cognitive equivalent is anchoring your day in human-paced rituals that AI cannot accelerate. A morning walk before you open a single tab. A real meal at a real table. A conversation with another human being where neither of you is optimizing for tokens. These aren’t indulgences; they’re the cognitive equivalent of getting ten minutes of morning light.

Hydrate and fuel the machine. Pilots will tell you that altitude dehydrates you faster than you realize. AI does something similar to your attention — it depletes a resource you didn’t know you were spending. Schedule recovery the way you schedule meetings. Treat focus like the finite, replenishable resource it actually is.

Build in layovers. No serious traveler does back-to-back red-eyes for a week without consequence. Yet I know plenty of people (myself included, on bad days) who do the AI equivalent: multiple days of ten consecutive hours of high-cognition prompting with no break in between. AI has compressed to zero all the natural pauses that used to be built into knowledge work — the walk to a colleague’s desk, the wait for a reply, the time it took to actually read the thing. So the pauses now have to be put back in on purpose. Five minutes of nothing between intense AI sessions. A real lunch, away from the screen. A walk between agents. A genuine end to the workday, not “one more prompt” rolling into 10 p.m. And a weekend without any work — including the increasingly common move of “I had AI handle it over the weekend so I could relax,” which misses the point entirely. If you’ve outsourced the doing but kept the thinking-about-doing, you’ve changed nothing except who’s typing.

Don’t fight the body — partner with it. The single biggest mistake jet-lagged travelers make is pretending the lag isn’t happening. They power through, crash harder, and lose three days instead of one. The same is true here. If your brain is telling you it’s foggy, it is foggy. The fix is not “one more prompt.” The fix is the same as it has always been: sleep, movement, real food, real people, real rest.

Choose which trips are worth taking. This might be the most important one. Not every meeting requires a transatlantic flight. Not every task requires four parallel agents. The question worth asking, every time, is: does the speed I’m gaining here justify the lag I’ll pay later? Sometimes the honest answer is yes. A lot of times — more than we’d like to admit — it’s no.

The Future Is Faster Than Today

There is no version of the next decade in which we slow down. The pace of AI is not going back into the bottle, any more than commercial aviation was going to retreat to ocean liners. The future is faster than today, and the day after that will be faster still.

Which means the question isn’t whether to engage. It’s whether to engage deliberately — with eyes open about what we’re trading and what we’re protecting.

The frequent flyers who thrive over a long career aren’t the ones who pretend jet lag doesn’t exist. They’re the ones who respect it, plan around it, and build the recovery into the trip itself. They treat their bodies as the irreplaceable instrument that makes the whole career possible.

We need to do the same thing with our minds.

Because the alternative isn’t keeping up. The alternative is becoming the cautionary tale — the high-achiever who could have done anything, and instead did everything, until there was nothing left.

The jet age didn’t make us superhuman. It made us travelers who had to learn new rules.

The AI age is the same. Let’s learn the rules a little faster this time.

Quality Over Quantity: My Best Reads of 2025

Thu, 18 Dec 2025 13:00:07 GMT

For years, I treated reading almost like a competitive sport. But entering 2025, I set a different kind of goal: I wanted to read fewer than 100 books.

It sounds counterintuitive in a world that glorifies "more," but my intention was specific. I wanted less consumption and more processing; less skimming and more producing. With only a few weeks left in the year, I can happily say I succeeded. I’ve clocked in at 82 books so far, and I don’t see myself sprinting through another 18 before January 1st.

The result? Even though the total count was lower, the quality of engagement was on par with—if not better than—any prior year. The books I chose this year hit harder, lingered longer, and directly influenced how I’m building my company, raising my daughter, and understanding the world.

From the physics of the universe to the magic of Hogwarts, here are the books that defined my 2025.

The Founder’s Mindset: Building & Creating

What's Next Is Now: How to Live Future Ready by Frederik Pferdt

I started the year with this book, and I am so happy I did. Pferdt challenges you to shift from "I want to do X, but..." to "I want to do X, and..." It sounds simple, but it is expansive for problem-solving. I used this framework immediately at Alively, and it triggered two new growth unlocks right out of the gate.

Rebel without a Crew by Robert Rodriguez

This is the story of how a 23-year-old filmmaker with $7,000 became a Hollywood player. I am in the middle of building a company, and having raised capital in the past, I realized I had become sloppy. I had been turning down money, while others told me that speed was worth the dilution. But what if it is speed in the wrong direction? This book was a masterful reminder that a lack of resources can actually be your greatest resource. It perfectly referenced where Alively is right now.

Awaken Your Genius: Escape Conformity, Ignite Creativity, and Become Extraordinary by Ozan Varol

I was a big fan of Varol's earlier work, Think Like a Rocket Scientist , and this did not disappoint. I had been realizing that I was doing too much consuming, and when I was creating, it felt like "content" rather than passion or art. It is ironic that I needed to consume one more book to get the kick I needed to change that, but there you have it.

Stillness Is the Key by Ryan Holiday

This was a timely reread. Since my goal was to read fewer books and spend more time in stillness, revisiting this felt essential. Good books are worth reading; great books like this one warrant rereading.

Deep Truths: History, Society, and Science

The Coddling of the American Mind by Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt

Everyone (including me) was talking about Haidt's The Anxious Generation in 2024. Reading that inspired me to go back to this earlier, foundational work. It is as relevant today as when he wrote it. It identifies how we are getting in our own way as a country; people truly do come from a good place, but we are still causing damage to ourselves—and more concerningly, our children.

The One: How an Ancient Idea Holds the Future of Physics by Heinrich Päs

I am on a quest to get to the deeper truth behind everything. This book pairs incredibly well with Why Buddhism is True, which I have read twice (see my note on rereading above) . It explores the idea that there is a truth we can’t see—and aren't meant to see—but that doesn't make it any less real. Like with so much else, modern science is finally catching up with what the ancients realized millennia ago.

Washington: A Life and Grant by Ron Chernow

Two amazing men written by one amazing biographer. I am a believer in the "Superman Theory" of history—that without specific individuals shaping their present, we would not have our current reality. I truly believe we would not have our country but for Washington and Grant (along with Lincoln, of course).

The Source: A Novel by James A. Michener

A beautiful novel that serves as an education on the history of the Holy Land, predating the founding of three world religions. Reading this made me reflect on the Holocaust, and the innumerable atrocities committed against the Jews long before then, and the grand arc of history; it framed that tragedy as merely one dark chapter in the long history of persecution faced by God's chosen people.

The Heart & The Magic

My Friends by Fredrik Backman

I am a sucker for any Backman book. As with every single one of his previous novels, I cried multiple times. He has a unique way of unlocking human emotion that few other authors can match.

The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad

I love journaling and get a lot out of it, and this book is filled with beautiful stories and prompts that I have since shared with loved ones. It’s a wonderful tool for anyone looking to go deeper into their own story. It was also my own "most gifted book" of 2025.

The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling

I know I am late to the game! I read the first one in college but never got into it. I am so happy I waited. Talulla and I read these together this year, and it was a magical adventure and experience. I stand corrected for my assessment when I was a "know-it-all" college student; Hogwarts is wonderful reading at any age.

As I look forward to 2026, I’m carrying the lessons of "less is more" with me. Whether it was the constraints of Robert Rodriguez or the stillness of Ryan Holiday, the theme of 2025 was about clearing space to let the important things land.

Here’s to another year of reading deeply, thinking clearly, and finding the magic—whether in a history book or at Hogwarts.

Center of the Universe

Tue, 21 Oct 2025 11:30:00 GMT

“You see, I am the center of the universe.

People love to say, ‘The world doesn’t revolve around you.’ Adorable. True for planets—Earth loops the sun, the sun twirls around some black-hole disco ball in the Milky Way. Astronomers win the participation trophy.

But in an infinite, ever-expanding, perfectly even universe, every point is the center. Draw your sphere anywhere—congratulations, you’re it. Geometry agrees, physics nods. Copernicus demoted us; quantum mechanics quietly re-promotes the observer.

And it’s not just geometry. I stand up, the world starts changing. I sit back down; it all starts rearranging. Air shifts, a butterfly in Africa tweaks its wingbeat, two weeks later a coastline files a complaint. I am a natural-disaster generator with excellent quads.

Then there’s the quantum side of it all. Unobserved, everything that is, or rather could be, is nothing more than possibility soup. Look, and it picks a lane. When I’m not watching you, you’re Schrödinger’s intern—half answering emails, half vapor. The instant I look—pop—there you are, deliciously well-dressed.

Douglas Adams saw it. The Total Perspective Vortex: built to shatter egos by showing your microscopic place in everything. Zaphod steps in and sees himself at the center. Unbothered. The machine wasn’t broken; it was calibrated.

That’s me. When I shift in my chair, constellations somewhere scoot a nanometer or two. Twelve galaxies of astrologers curse my posture.

And you’re the center of your universe too, I’m sure. Tonight, out of infinity, your universe crash-landed into mine and mine wandered into yours. That’s two winning lottery tickets colliding mid-air and raising a glass to their good fortune.

Most people never notice. They play unpaid extras in someone else’s film. But without your gaze, your scene isn’t a film at all—it’s blank tape waiting for a lead.

Here’s the only non-symmetric rule I’ve found: if everyone is the center, then meaning lives in the way centers interact. How they treat each other. Kindness is the only physics that survives a change of frame.

So do me a favor: don’t blink too long. Every time you stop looking, half the room collapses back into raw probability. It’s a heavy load to bear when you stop to think about it.

Ah. Our table is ready. After you, my dear.”

Behind them, the exit sign flickered, then went dark.

From Posting to Presence: A Goodbye for Now

Mon, 25 Aug 2025 12:30:00 GMT

Before 2021, my relationship with social media was… minimal. A handful of posts on Instagram, mostly vacation shots or moments I wanted to remember. Facebook had more content, but that was mainly because I used it like a digital photo album. I’m older—so that was the thing back then. A place to store, not perform.

Then came the book.

When Get Out of My Head launched, I was told (wisely, I suppose) that I needed to “build my platform.” To grow an audience. Engage. Show up. And so I did. What started as a few thoughtful posts about ideas from the book became a steady stream of insights, photos, videos, and carousels. I genuinely enjoyed it at first. It felt like an extension of the work—connecting with others who were navigating similar struggles. It was meaningful. And it was fun.

But sometime last year, I noticed something shift.

I was on a walk with my daughter, and I caught myself composing a caption in my head while she was telling me a story. Not a long caption. Just a snappy one-liner to pair with the video I was thinking of capturing. And that was the moment it clicked: I was no longer simply living. I was posting about living—in real time.

My internal dialogue had started to narrate life through the lens of shareable content. Every moment became potential material. And that realization hit harder than I expected.

I didn’t like what it was doing to me. Not just to my time or attention, but to the way I experienced joy, beauty, or even stillness. Everything was being filtered through a “how will I share this?” lens. I had gone from presence to performance. From living in the moment to scripting it.

So maybe you noticed—my posts began to shift.

They got less personal. More focused on ideas, frameworks, business. In part, that was intentional. I was trying to reclaim some part of my life that felt like it had slipped away. But even in that shift, something still didn’t sit right.

It started to feel like I was performing productivity. Writing about the work of Alively more than actually doing the work. Posting about the concepts that inspire me more than letting them shape me. Creating carousels instead of creating momentum.

And all of that takes time. Not just the logistical time of crafting a post, but the mental space—the headspace it rents. And that time has to come from somewhere.

That somewhere, for me, was the space I need to be present. With my family. With my work. With myself.

So, here we are. This is my last blog post for the foreseeable future.

I’m stepping back. Not in protest. Not in burnout. Just in quiet clarity.

Maybe I’ll write fiction again, just for me. Maybe I’ll continue reflecting on these ideas—presence, purpose, boundaries—but I won’t post about them. At least not now. I want to see where this goes, when I’m not living it out loud.

I started all of this—posting, writing, sharing—because I believed that the things I was thinking about might be things others were struggling with too. That was the real gift of Get Out of My Head . Hearing from readers, from you, that these ideas resonated. That you were also navigating the tension between doing and being, between showing up and staying sane. That meant the world to me.

But lately, I’ve started to feel like I’m just shouting into the social echo chamber. Unsure if I’m helping anyone… other than a few trillion-dollar companies that thrive on clicks, likes, and the illusion of connection.

And that’s not what I want to feed.

So this is me signing off. Not forever, maybe. But for now.

I’m choosing presence over posting. Depth over reach. Living the work, rather than talking about it.

Thank you—for reading, for walking alongside me, for being part of this journey. Truly. I’m grateful for every message, every thoughtful comment, every quiet “that sounds like me too” you’ve shared.

So long, and goodbye—for now.

—Andrew

The Wisdom of Maintenance: What Tuning a Cello (or Body) Can Teach Us About Life

Tue, 12 Aug 2025 12:30:18 GMT

“Matilda’s sick again,” Talulla tells me with deep concern, cradling her cello as if it were a beloved pet needing urgent care. It’s one of the most unintentionally profound things I’ve ever heard her say.

Matilda is not a person. Matilda is Talulla’s cello—a sweet, warm-toned wooden instrument that’s practically a family member at this point. And when Talulla says she’s sick, what she really means is: Matilda’s out of tune.

And she’s right. You can hear it immediately when a cello isn’t tuned properly. It wobbles. It warbles. The harmony that once rang so easily becomes jarring. It’s not broken—it just needs attention. A little adjustment here. A twist of the peg there. And with care, it sings again.

There’s something deeply human about this process. The way Matilda constantly needs tuning is not so different from the way we need retuning in our lives—physically, emotionally, mentally. But unlike a cello, we often wait too long to admit we’re off-key.

Minor Adjustments, Major Impact

With instruments, it doesn’t take much to fall out of tune. Just playing it can do it. A shift in weather. A bump on the car ride home. Matilda doesn’t need an overhaul—she just needs small, regular attention to stay aligned. And it’s the same with us.

Daily life naturally nudges us off center. A stressful day at work. One night of poor sleep. A few skipped workouts. Slowly, we drift from our best selves, often without realizing it. Until something sounds—or feels—off.

The key isn’t waiting for a full breakdown. The key is maintenance. Micro-adjustments. Checking in early and often, rather than reacting late and hard.

The Danger of Delaying the Tune

When Matilda is “sick,” Talulla now recognizes the signs. She knows something’s not right, and she tells someone. That small awareness allows for small fixes. But what happens if we don’t catch it?

With instruments, the longer they go untuned, the harder it becomes to bring them back. The strings stretch too far, the pegs get stuck, and suddenly you’re not adjusting—you’re repairing. The same goes for us.

Ignore the sore back long enough, and it’s not just a twinge—it’s an injury. Keep pushing through the burnout, and you’re not just tired—you’re lost. Preventative care may not feel dramatic, but it’s where long-term harmony lives.

It’s easy to write off small signs: the tension in your jaw, the shortened patience with loved ones, the creeping fatigue. But these are the body’s equivalent of a flat string. They’re not flaws. They’re invitations to pause, recalibrate, and return to alignment.

Listening Is a Skill—One I Had to Relearn

One of the hardest things about keeping our own “instrument” in tune is this: we can’t always hear ourselves clearly. At least, not at first. And in my case, I trained myself not to listen.

As a competitive swimmer in my youth, tuning out pain wasn’t a liability—it was a skill. You learned to ignore what your body was saying, to push harder, to silence the internal warning systems so you could perform. That mindset helped me compete, but it also led to injury. And a shorter career.

Decades later, I still find myself having to unlearn that old programming. Now, I’m trying to hear again. To notice when something’s off. To respect it instead of override it. Listening to your body isn’t soft—it’s wise. It's the path to longevity, not just performance.

But like music, it takes practice.

We Don’t Have to Tune Alone

Here’s another lesson Matilda teaches us: we don’t have to do this alone.

Talulla is still learning how to play, let alone tune her instrument. She’s not expected to figure it out solo. She goes to her teacher. Someone who’s done it for years. Someone who knows how to listen differently and adjust with confidence.

We need the same kind of support. Most of us were never taught how to listen to our bodies, manage our stress, or optimize our energy. But there are professionals who do know:

— A primary care doctor who sees the patterns.
— A physical therapist who notices the imbalance before it becomes injury.
— A functional medicine doc who finds what’s off at the root.
— A nutritionist who knows what your body might be asking for.
— A trainer who sees how you move and what that says about your strength or alignment.

You don’t have to be the expert. But you do have to show up. Ask for help. Stay curious. And most importantly—keep coming back for the tune-ups.

Becoming Your Own Apprentice

Over time, Talulla will learn how to tune Matilda herself. She’ll still go to her teacher, but she’ll also learn to trust her own ear. She’ll make mistakes—tighten when she should’ve loosened—but she’ll improve.

And that’s our job too.

We don’t start out knowing how to take care of ourselves. We learn. Slowly. Through journaling, through trial and error, through body scans and bloodwork and maybe even breakdowns. But the more we listen, the more we trust. The more we trust, the more we adjust.

We may never be concert-level soloists when it comes to our health or our work-life balance, but we don’t need to be. What we need is presence. Practice. And the willingness to keep showing up with our metaphorical tuning pegs.

A Symphony in Progress

Matilda still gets “sick.” And she will for as long as she’s played. But Talulla is getting better at noticing it early. She doesn’t panic—she tunes.

That’s the goal for all of us.

We don’t need to be perfectly in tune at every moment. But we can notice when things feel a little off. We can pause. Adjust. Ask for help. Learn something new. And play again.

Life isn’t a one-time performance. It’s an evolving symphony. One that takes constant maintenance and loving attention.

You don’t need a new life.

You might just need a tune.

What’s one small area in your life that could use a little re-tuning this week?

Start there. Start small. And start now.

The Rest I Didn’t Know I Needed: Lessons from Injury and HRV

Mon, 28 Jul 2025 12:30:01 GMT

For years, I told myself a quiet lie: that rest was for other people. You know, the ones who weren’t “disciplined” enough. The ones who needed to recharge. Not me. I was the kind of person who got after it. I didn’t miss workouts. I pushed through fatigue. I wore my consistency like a badge of honor.

And the irony? I knew better. I’ve read the research. I’ve heard the experts say it again and again: rest and recovery are just as essential as training . They’re one of the five foundational pillars of healthspan—right up there with fitness, nutrition, stress management, and social connection. On paper, I understood it. But in practice, I always treated rest like a luxury I hadn’t earned yet.

That mindset finally started to shift thanks to a few wake-up calls—some subtle, some less so.

It started with reading more deeply into the research. Then there was a post from Peter Attia, going from the same intellectual “knowing” I had to a true internalized realization thanks to a forced period of rest. Friends and loved ones would gently (and sometimes not-so-gently) encourage me to build in more space, to chill a bit. But if I’m being honest, I still didn’t do anything about it.

It wasn’t until I recorded an episode of the Home of Healthspan podcast with Dylan Gemelli that something clicked. I don’t even remember the exact thing he said, but I remember how it landed. For whatever reason, it stuck. And that week, for the first time in I don’t know how long, I took a true rest day. No “active recovery.” No sneaky cardio. Just rest.

And here’s where it gets interesting: my HRV (Heart Rate Variability) started improving almost immediately.

Quick definition, in case you’re unfamiliar: HRV is the measure of the variation in time between your heartbeats. A higher HRV means your nervous system is in a more adaptable, recovered, and resilient state. Lower HRV? You’re likely stressed, overtrained, or under-recovered. It’s not a perfect metric, but it’s an incredibly helpful window into how your body is really doing.

From February to July of 2025, I saw a steady climb in my HRV—month after month. From 47 to 55. That’s a 20% improvement, simply from one rest day a week and a little more attention to recovery.

But the real lesson—the one that forced me to actually understand rest—came after an operation this summer.

The procedure itself wasn’t major, but the post-op instructions were crystal clear: no physical activity for two full weeks . Anything more than the absolute basics risked ripping internal stitches. So for the first time in years, I stopped cold.

Here’s what happened:

Week one? My HRV soared. I was waking up with scores in the high 60s and even hit 70. My body was soaking up the total rest like a sponge. It was confirmation that I’d been carrying a huge load, and finally giving my system time off allowed it to rebound beautifully.

But then… week two hit.

And my HRV crashed. High 30s. Low 40s. Worse than it had been even during my overtraining phases.

It was baffling at first. I wasn’t doing anything, and yet my body was responding like I was under major stress. Until I realized: rest only works when it follows effort .

I’d gone from sustained high-output weeks to a full-stop, and that first week of recovery made sense. But by the second week, the pendulum had swung too far. I didn’t need more rest—I needed the return of rhythm, of effort, of challenge.

Once I resumed physical activity—carefully at first—my HRV climbed again. It’s now steady in the mid to high 50s. Not peaking, but strong. Balanced.

Here’s the thing I finally, truly get: rest isn’t about doing nothing—it’s about doing the right amount for the work you’re doing .

Too much work? You burn out.

Too much rest? You fade.

It’s a dance. A cycle. Stress, recover, adapt. Repeat.

We love to glorify the grind, but it’s in the recovery that we actually get stronger. Muscles rebuild. Hormones reset. Your nervous system regains its footing. Without rest, there is no growth. Without work, there’s nothing to recover from. You need both.

And this doesn’t just apply to training. It’s true in work, relationships, even creativity. We all need to find our version of the sweet spot—where we’re challenged enough to grow, but rested enough to handle it.

So here’s what I’d offer, if you’re someone who leans hard into effort and tends to see rest as a kind of weakness:

Start small. One true rest day a week changed my physiology more than I imagined.
Track something. HRV worked for me, but even basic journaling—energy, sleep, mood—can show you patterns.
Rest when you're well, not just when you’re wrecked. Recovery is not a reward for burnout. It’s maintenance for your engine.

I wish it hadn’t taken an operation to learn this. But sometimes, life hands you a lesson so clearly you can’t look away. And now? Rest isn’t a compromise. It’s strategy.

Here’s to getting stronger—by slowing down, just enough.

The Ethics of Longevity: Who Gets to Live Longer and Healthier?

Mon, 21 Jul 2025 12:30:01 GMT

Imagine spending $2 million a year just to stay young. That’s not a sci-fi plot — that’s Brian Johnson’s real life. He’s the guy who made headlines for building a full-time medical team, tracking his organs with more tests than an entire hospital wing, and living on a strict diet of green sludge and personalized supplements — all in the name of living longer.

It’s easy to roll our eyes. But it also raises a pretty uncomfortable question: Is living longer and healthier becoming a privilege reserved for the ultra-wealthy? Is longevity just the latest luxury — a wellness playground for those who can buy their way out of aging? And if so… where does that leave the rest of us?

The Biohacking Boom: A Playground for the Wealthy?

Walk through any trendy health podcast or Instagram reel these days and you’ll find no shortage of people selling the dream of “biohacking.” Fancy wearables that track your sleep stages. Hyperbaric oxygen chambers you can install in your basement. Personalized IV drips, peptides, nootropics, cold plunges, red light therapy — the list goes on and on.

And sure, there’s some fascinating science in there. But there’s also a booming industry behind it — one that loves to position longevity as something you need to buy to achieve.

Brian Johnson might be the poster boy for this idea — reportedly dropping over $2 million every year on tests, doctors, supplements, and gadgets. But he’s far from alone. The wellness market is stuffed with people ready to sell you the latest “hack” — a $300 stress device here, a $500 supplement stack there.

Here’s the thing: about 20% of Americans have true discretionary income — money left over after covering essentials. That leaves a lot of people just trying to pay rent, keep the lights on, and put food on the table. Meanwhile, the narrative around longevity can start to feel pretty elitist — like a secret club for those who can afford to chase an extra decade of life with high-tech toys.

The Big Secret: Healthspan Doesn’t Have to Cost a Fortune

But here’s what the fancy marketing rarely admits: you don’t need millions — or even thousands — to get most of the benefits that help you live longer and better.

No red light bed required. No custom peptide injections. Not even a gym membership if you don’t want one.

Most of the biggest longevity boosts come from the same simple, free (or cheap) habits that people have known for decades — but too often overlook in the chase for the next shiny hack.

Move your body vigorously: You don’t need a Peloton or a boutique class. Do 20 push-ups on your bedroom floor. Squat until your legs burn. Run up and down your stairs. Research shows that going from no movement to some movement brings massive gains in lifespan and quality of life.

Eat enough protein and whole plants: The protein helps preserve muscle, which is a huge predictor of healthy aging. And the fiber and nutrients in plants? They protect your gut, heart, and brain. You don’t need a $60 greens powder — start by aiming for 800 grams (about 6-7 cups) of fruits and vegetables daily.

Sleep eight hours: No fancy mattress or sleep app can replace the basics. Turn off the screens, cool the room, and protect your bedtime like it’s a million-dollar secret — because it kind of is. And hey, maybe canceling a streaming subscription is the easiest longevity “hack” you’ll ever try.

Breathe: You can pay for fancy apps and devices, sure. But one study found that a simple, free breathing exercise called the “physiological sigh” — just a double inhale through your nose, then a slow exhale — can calm your nervous system in minutes. Five minutes a day can work better than guided meditation.

Connect with people: Maybe the most underrated free longevity tool we have. Human connection is protective. Say hello to the cashier, chat with your neighbor, call a friend. Five to ten small, genuine interactions a day do more for your mental and physical health than you might ever measure with a wearable.

The Everyday Longevity Hero

Need proof that this isn’t just theory? Meet Julie Gibson Clark — a single mom who decided she wanted to live as long and well as possible. Her “longevity routine” costs her about $108 a month — that’s it. She focuses on a vegetable-rich diet, some basic supplements, regular exercise, and meditation. No full-time medical team. No billion-dollar bank account. Just consistency.

Julie’s story is powerful because it shows that you don’t have to buy into the lie that health is only for the wealthy. She proves you can choose basics over gadgets — and still stack the odds in your favor.

Everyone Deserves a Long, Alively Life

So yes — there are a thousand ways to spend money chasing health. And sure, if you’ve got millions, go ahead and experiment with fancy blood tests and custom infusions. But don’t let anyone convince you that your vitality is out of reach without them.

Healthy, vibrant, “ Alively ” living (to borrow a word I love) is not for the few. It’s for all of us. We just have to reclaim it from the marketers and the influencers telling us we need to spend our way there.

Sometimes the simplest actions are the most radical: moving your body, eating real food, sleeping deeply, breathing well, and staying connected to the people around you. These cost next to nothing — and yet they’re priceless.

So, What’s Holding You Back?

The ethics of longevity is a big conversation. But the first step is remembering that the most powerful tools are not locked behind velvet ropes. They’re here for you, today, right where you are.

So if you’ve ever felt like healthy aging is for “other people” — the ones with better jobs, bigger houses, or $2 million health budgets — please know this: the door is open for you too.

Go for a walk tonight instead of another episode. Text a friend. Take a deep breath. And know that, yes — you really do deserve to live a long, healthy, meaningful life.

Repetition Is Not Redundant: The Quiet Power of Doing the Same Things Well

Mon, 07 Jul 2025 12:15:00 GMT

In an age obsessed with novelty, repetition can feel… boring. We crave the new workout plan, the new diet hack, the new productivity method that promises overnight transformation. But here’s the quiet truth: real change rarely arrives in a flash. More often, it’s built in silence—through small actions repeated with intention, day after day, year after year.

Discipline and ritual get a bad rap. Some see them as shackles—restrictions that box in our freedom. But the irony is, the right routines don’t limit you. They free you. And the science backs it up.

The Science of Small, Consistent Steps

Big, dramatic moves—like crash diets or jumping from zero exercise to two-hour workouts every day—make great headlines. But research shows they rarely stick.

In his book Atomic Habits , James Clear distills decades of behavioral research into one simple idea: small habits, repeated consistently, compound into remarkable results. He writes, “Every action you take is a vote for the person you wish to become.” The votes don’t have to be huge—just steady.

B.J. Fogg, a behavior scientist at Stanford, teaches the same through his Tiny Habits Method: lasting change starts with actions so small you can’t fail. When they’re easy, you repeat them. When you repeat them, they become identity.

And in 2009, a study by Phillippa Lally published in the European Journal of Social Psychology found that, on average, it takes 66 days to make a behavior automatic. Not one heroic effort—66 days of small repetitions.

So while bold transformations are tempting, they rarely last. It’s the quiet consistency that changes who you are.

Rituals Shape Identity

When you commit to small, repeated actions, you’re not just changing what you do—you’re changing how you see yourself.

Think about your own rituals: your morning walk, your daily journaling, your regular workouts, your mindful bedtime wind-down. These aren’t random tasks. They’re anchors. Each repetition is a tiny reminder: I’m someone who cares for my body. I’m someone who makes time for stillness. I’m someone who keeps promises to myself.

This is how repetition becomes transformation. Not by forcing you into a box—but by giving you an identity you trust.

Discipline Is Freedom, Not a Cage

Here’s the paradox: the more discipline you have, the more freedom you gain.

Jocko Willink, a Navy SEAL turned author, says it best: “Discipline equals freedom.” It sounds harsh until you realize what he means—discipline frees you from chaos, distraction, and decision fatigue.

A 2011 study in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology found that people with strong self-control don’t constantly resist temptation—they avoid it by automating their choices. They build routines that run on autopilot. They spend less energy deciding, because the decision has already been made.

When you repeat good actions by default, you free your mind to focus on what truly matters: your work, your relationships, your purpose.

The 80/20 Principle of Rituals: Be Consistent, Not Perfect

But here’s where people get stuck: they think discipline means perfection. It doesn’t.

True discipline lives in the 80/20 rule: if you follow your rituals 80% to 90% of the time, you get nearly all the benefit and the freedom to loosen the reins for the other 10%–20%.

Look at Tim Ferriss’s Slow Carb Diet: he famously built “cheat days” into the plan. Not as failures, but as part of the system. Or consider athletes: they schedule rest days because recovery is part of growth. If you train hard every single day, you break down. If you rest with intention, you build back stronger.

Life will test your routines. You’ll travel. You’ll have family emergencies. You’ll celebrate holidays. You’ll hit seasons of burnout or unexpected surgeries (like I did recently). Not long ago, I had an operation that took me completely out of my normal groove—no swimming, no lifting, not even my daily stretching and mobility practice. It rattled me. Was I worried about losing momentum? Of course. But it also reminded me that discipline isn’t a prison.

In that season, letting go of my routine was the discipline. Pushing would have set me back. Pausing was how I kept faith with the bigger goal: long-term health.

So here’s the truth: your rituals are powerful, but they’re not stone tablets. They’re tools. The goal isn’t perfect streaks forever—it’s meaningful consistency over time.

Seasonality: Know When to Hold On, Know When to Let Go

A wise routine respects the seasons of your life. Sometimes you tighten your grip. Sometimes you loosen it.

Maybe work or family needs more from you for a while. Maybe you’re traveling, grieving, healing, or simply living. Rituals should adapt to serve your life, not the other way around.

Discipline, at its best, isn’t rigidity—it’s discernment. The skill isn’t just in doing your rituals, but in knowing when to break them, when to return, and when to evolve.

Repetition Is How We Become

When you strip it all down, repetition is not redundant. It’s how we become.

There is quiet power in doing the same meaningful things, well and often. In showing up for yourself not just once in a burst of motivation, but over and over again, when nobody’s watching. That’s where depth lives. That’s where the big changes hide.

So embrace your routines. Love your discipline. Use them to shape your days—and, piece by piece, your identity.

But remember: do it for the life you want. And never let your rituals become the walls that keep you from living it.

The Longevity Echo: How Today’s Habits Shape the Person You’ll Become

Mon, 30 Jun 2025 12:30:02 GMT

There’s a certain beauty in the quiet things we do each day. The 6 a.m. walk before emails begin. The decision to skip the drive-thru and make something fresh. A moment of stillness before bed. They don’t feel groundbreaking. But they echo—sometimes for decades.

We often think of longevity as a gift granted to a lucky few—people with “good genes.” But what if living longer—and better—wasn’t about chance, but about the ripple effect of today’s smallest choices?

Superagers: Proof That It’s Not Just in Your DNA

In the book Superagers, the research is clear: it’s not just genetics that determine who thrives in their 80s and 90s. In fact, only about 20–30% of our lifespan is determined by genes. The rest? It’s lifestyle, mindset, and the way we show up each day.

These “superagers” aren’t elite athletes or lottery winners of the genome. They’re people who make movement a daily habit. Who engage socially and stay mentally curious. Who work their bodies and brains consistently—not perfectly, but persistently.

What these studies revealed is powerful: the way we live shapes the way we age.

And the best part? It’s never too late to start.

The Healthcare Echo: What Our Choices Cost

Let’s talk numbers.

In the U.S., nearly 1 in every 5 dollars in our economy is spent on healthcare. That’s about $4.5 trillion annually. Of that staggering total, 90% goes to chronic and mental health conditions —many of which are preventable and often reversible through lifestyle changes.

Yes, reversible.

Conditions like type 2 diabetes, hypertension, heart disease, and certain autoimmune disorders have all shown dramatic improvement—or even full remission—through sustained changes in nutrition, movement, sleep, and stress management.

That means the ripple of our collective habits isn’t just biological—it’s financial. Our daily choices, multiplied across millions, shape not just our bodies but our budgets and society at large.

This is not about blame. It’s about opportunity.

Today’s Choices Echo Forward

I like to think of every habit as a pebble tossed into a still lake. The effect might seem small now. But over time, those ripples stretch out wider than we ever imagined.

A 20-minute walk each day might not feel heroic. But stack that over 30 years? You’re looking at thousands of hours of cardiovascular health, better mood, stronger joints, and more resilient longevity.

Cooking a simple, whole-food dinner might not feel Instagram-worthy. But do it consistently and you’re changing your gut health, metabolism, energy, even your cognitive function.

Sleep, stress management, strength training, hydration, laughter, friendships—these aren’t just “nice to haves.” They’re foundational. They are the long-game investments that compound over time in the most valuable asset we’ll ever own: ourselves.

The Superager Blueprint

So what do the superagers actually do differently? Here’s what the research—and real life—shows:

They move daily. It’s not about marathons. It’s about movement: walking, dancing, lifting, stretching.
They stay mentally engaged. They learn languages, play music, read, challenge their thinking.
They connect. Loneliness is as dangerous as smoking. Superagers cultivate deep relationships.
They have purpose. They wake up with a “why,” whether it’s family, service, or curiosity.
They don’t retire from life. Many keep working or volunteering well into their 80s and 90s.

These habits don’t just keep people alive. They keep them vibrant. Capable. Present.

A Mindset Shift: From Fixing to Building

Too often we treat health reactively—waiting until something breaks before we fix it. But longevity requires a builder’s mindset.

The superagers didn’t stumble into strength. They laid the bricks one habit at a time.

And that’s the invitation. To stop seeing habits as chores, and start seeing them as blueprints. As personal architecture. As investments in the person we’re becoming.

Your habits today are the foundation your future self will stand on.

What Will Your Echo Sound Like?

Pause and reflect:

What’s one habit I’m practicing today that my 80-year-old self will thank me for?
What belief am I holding that says “it’s too late” or “too hard” to change?
How can I make my long-term well-being part of my daily rhythm, not just a New Year’s resolution?

This isn’t about perfection. It’s about consistency. It’s about choosing, again and again, to honor the future you.

Because the echo is already forming.

Your Future Self Is Listening

In 10, 20, or 40 years, you will become the result of what you practiced—not occasionally, but regularly.

You’ll carry the benefits of sleep routines, strength training, a joyful plate, and purpose-filled days. Or you’ll feel the burden of their absence.

The good news? That future is not fixed. You shape it today—with every step, every bite, every breath.

So take the walk. Choose the greens. Call the friend. Learn the thing.

Small ripples. Big echoes.

The Illusion of Productivity: When Health Optimization Becomes a Distraction

Fri, 27 Jun 2025 20:21:15 GMT

If you ever want to see how quickly a good thing can become a distraction, look at health in 2025. We have trackers on our wrists, apps on our phones, micro-optimized meal plans, sleep scores, HRV dashboards, supplements for every hour of the day — and more podcasts than we can listen to about “what to try next.”

On two recent episodes of the Home of Healthspan podcast, I sat down with Michael Chernow of Kreatures of Habit and Ben Azadi. Both of these guys live and breathe health — the fasting windows, the cold plunges, the stacks of supplements. It was inspiring, but what struck me most was a simple, deeper question we circled back to every time: WHY?

Why are we doing all of this? Because at some point, you have to ask: is all this optimization helping us live better — or is it just another thing to track, measure, and stress over?

When “Better” Becomes Another Box to Check

It’s an easy trap to fall into. I’m guilty of it too. A new supplement promising better sleep? Add it to the stack. A new protocol for muscle recovery? Let’s go. A new tracker? Strap it on.

But somewhere along the line, “health” can start to feel like work — another project to manage. Another layer of “productivity.” The irony? All this busyness might just be pulling us away from the point of it all: actually feeling good and living our lives.

A recent Vox article called out a perfect example: sleep trackers and “sleep anxiety.” More people are waking up groggy, not because they slept poorly, but because their wearable said they did. They check their score first thing in the morning — and if it’s bad, they spend the day feeling worse. The data becomes the experience.

That’s not rest. That’s a report card.

Tools Are Not Good or Bad — They’re Tools

I’m not anti-tech. Wearables are neutral. So are supplements, apps, fancy beds, or ice baths. They’re not “good” or “bad” — they just are. They’re like smartphones or AI: in the right hands, they’re powerful. Used mindlessly, they can drain us.

The same goes for anything in life. Even water — our most basic need — can be deadly in excess. These tools only work if we remember they’re just that: tools. They’re meant to serve us, not the other way around.

The Productivity Trap — Health Edition

Greg McKeown’s Essentialism changed how I think about this. In work, there’s always more you could do — more meetings, more emails, more Slack messages. But just because you’re busy doesn’t mean you’re moving the needle.

The same is true in wellness. There’s always another thing you could add:

✔️ Another supplement
✔️ Another cold plunge
✔️ Another new training protocol
✔️ Another fasting tweak

But does it serve you? Does it get you closer to what you really want?

Sometimes, the time you’d spend on another biohack would be better spent on the basics: getting to bed earlier. Taking a nap instead of forcing a workout. Or — and here’s the radical part — skipping the gym for an unhurried dinner with the people you love.

What Actually Matters

Health metrics are not health itself. They’re proxies — signposts. They can help us see if we’re moving in the right direction, but they’re not the destination.

No one lies on their deathbed wishing their sleep score had been a little higher, or their macros a little tighter. They remember moments. Laughter. A sunrise walk. Sharing a meal they didn’t obsessively log.

It’s easy to forget: the reason we chase health is so we can live. Not just longer, but better.

Essentialism for Your Wellbeing

So what if we applied McKeown’s Essentialism to our health?

✅ Sleep well — consistently — instead of chasing hacks on no sleep.
✅ Train hard — but know when to rest.
✅ Eat nourishing food — but share meals without guilt when you want to.
✅ Track your data — but don’t let it dictate your day.

More is not always better. Sometimes, more is just… more.

My Own Reminder

This lesson hit me recently. After a minor surgery, my routines went out the window: no swimming, no lifting, not even my daily stretches. For two weeks, my health “routine” was just resting — and yes, I hated it. I worried I’d lose momentum. But I realized: pushing would’ve made it worse. Sometimes the healthiest thing you can do is nothing at all.

My wearables didn’t matter. My metrics didn’t matter. What mattered was letting my body heal so I could get back to living the life I want — not just checking boxes for the sake of checking them.

Use the Tools — But Live the Life

Health tracking, new gadgets, wearables — they’re amazing when they remind us to take care of ourselves. They’re dangerous when they convince us to live for the numbers.

So here’s my gentle nudge — and the reminder I’m giving myself too:

The data is helpful.
The hacks can be powerful.
But they’re never the point.

The point is energy. Capability. Freedom. Presence. Joy. Connection.

The point is living.

A Simple Question

If you ever feel caught in the swirl of health optimization, pause and ask: Is this serving me, or am I serving it?

Don’t trade real life for perfect metrics. Use the tools to build the life you want — then go live it, fully.

The Stories We Tell About Health and Aging

Thu, 26 Jun 2025 17:31:32 GMT

There’s something fascinating about watching my parents interact with their grandkids. At 70+, they’re on the floor playing, running after them in the yard, or lacing up for a 10K like it’s just another Saturday. They golf almost daily, do the Peachtree Road Race every 4th of July, and still somehow seem more agile than folks 20 years younger. This isn’t the picture many of us were taught aging should look like—but maybe that’s the point.

For so long, we’ve accepted a particular script about what it means to grow older. One where energy wanes, strength diminishes, and our best days are behind us. But what if aging isn't just a biological timeline, but also a psychological story—a narrative we’ve been taught to believe?

Ellen Langer’s “Reverse Aging” Experiment

Psychologist Ellen Langer once ran an experiment that feels almost like a scene from science fiction. In 1979, she invited a group of elderly men to live in a retreat designed to replicate life in 1959. Everything—from the music and newspapers to the television shows and decor—was a time capsule from two decades earlier. The twist? The men were told to act as if it actually was 1959.

And something remarkable happened.

After just one week, the participants showed measurable improvements in strength, posture, flexibility, even hearing and vision. They walked with greater confidence. One group photo taken at the end of the study was so compelling, a new observer guessed the men were younger after the retreat than they appeared in photos before it. Langer’s conclusion? Our minds deeply influence our physical state. When we stop acting old, we stop feeling old—and our bodies often follow.

A Tale of Two Generations

I’ve seen this truth play out in my own family. My grandparents and great-grandparents lived into their 90s and even to 100, which is incredible longevity. But their final decades were marked by fragility and immobility. They mostly stayed seated. Lifting grandkids was out of the question. The mindset was: “This is just what happens when you get old.”

My parents, on the other hand, never subscribed to that story. They’ve rewritten the narrative for what 70 looks like—and what it can feel like. They never question whether they should run, golf, or play tag. They just do. The difference? Yes, some of it is due to physical habits—but much of it is belief.

They never bought into the cultural story that says aging = decline. Instead, they wrote their own.

The Myth of the Slowing Metabolism

Here’s another story we’ve all heard: metabolism slows as you age. It’s framed as inevitable—as if, somewhere around 40, your body decides to run a little slower just because.

But here’s the thing: science says otherwise.

A groundbreaking international study that tracked over 6,500 people across a wide age range found that our metabolism remains remarkably steady from our 20s all the way into our 60s. The culprit for that creeping sluggishness? Not age—but muscle loss. As we get older, if we become less active, we lose lean mass—and it’s that lean mass that keeps our metabolism humming.

In other words, your metabolism doesn’t slow down because the calendar says so. It slows down because you stop moving, stop lifting, stop challenging your muscles. And here’s the kicker: if you don’t stop—if you do the work to maintain muscle—you can preserve your metabolic engine well into later life.

So next time someone chalks up weight gain or fatigue to “just getting older,” know that it’s not destiny. It’s a choice, rooted in a story that no longer holds up to scrutiny.

Changing the Script

The stories we inherit—from doctors, media, even our own families—shape how we live. And when those stories are built around limitation and inevitability, they can quietly become self-fulfilling. If we expect to slow down, we will. If we assume we’re too old to try something new, we won’t.

But the opposite is also true.

When you believe you can thrive at any age—when you treat your 60s, 70s, and 80s as full of potential rather than decline—you start to act in ways that reinforce that belief. You say yes to movement. You stay curious. You reach for weights instead of excuses.

The Five Pillars—and One More

Yes, we need to invest in the fundamentals of health:

Fitness —move your body, build strength
Nutrition —fuel wisely, eat for longevity
Sleep & Recovery —honor rest
Stress Management —stay grounded
Social Connection —stay engaged with others

But there’s a sixth, often overlooked pillar: the story you tell yourself about your age.

Because even with perfect habits, if you believe you’re “too old” to matter, too old to grow, or too old to feel good—you’re putting a ceiling on your own potential.

Final Thoughts: The Power to Choose Your Narrative

We don’t control everything about aging. But we do control the mindset we bring to it. And mindset, as research and real-life have shown, is not a passive lens—it’s an active force.

You get to choose the story. You get to decide whether “70” means winding down or gearing up for new adventures. You get to believe, as Langer’s work suggests, that we are far more capable than the age on our driver’s license would have us think.

So if you care about your health, absolutely commit to the five pillars. But don’t forget the most powerful tool you have: your story.

Because how we age starts, quite simply, with how we think we can.

Why Greatness Can’t Be Planned: The Case for Following the Interesting

Tue, 10 Jun 2025 12:30:05 GMT

I didn’t go to law school to become an entrepreneur. In fact, for most of my time there, I was laser-focused on the next obvious step: clerkships, law firms, maybe eventually a path into public service. But life has a funny way of unfolding—not by sticking to a carefully laid plan, but by veering into the unexpected.

For me, it was a negotiation workshop during my second year that planted the seed. One of my professors shared an offhand anecdote that struck a chord, though I couldn’t have told you why at the time. Several years later, I found myself at lunch with some of my parents’ friends while on vacation, and that anecdote bubbled back up. That conversation, entirely unplanned, became the foundation of my first company, VacationFutures.

From there, one thing led to the next—not through a tidy strategic plan, but through a series of meandering, curiosity-fueled steps. VacationFutures led to Rented Capital. Learnings from that led to Rented.com. None of it was straight. None of it was predicted. But each step, fueled by genuine interest, created the momentum for something new. That’s the thing about greatness: it doesn’t arrive by request. It emerges when you’re following what feels worth chasing—even if the destination isn’t clear.

The Trap of the Plan

This might sound counterintuitive. After all, we live in a world that worships plans. We set goals, chart paths, optimize for outcomes. But as Joel Lehman and Kenneth Stanley argue in Why Greatness Cannot Be Planned , that mindset can actually limit us. When we focus too much on achieving a specific objective, we often restrict ourselves to what feels like the next logical, incremental step.

But true greatness? It’s rarely logical—and almost never incremental.

Take computers, for example. They didn’t evolve from some straight line starting at Charles Babbage. The vacuum tube, an essential part of early computing, wasn’t invented to help build computers. It came from a completely different field. You could never have charted a course from Babbage to the laptop you’re reading this on, not without walking through dozens of other disciplines and accidental discoveries.

It’s the same with flight. The Wright brothers relied on internal combustion engines—another unrelated invention—to bring their vision to life. Innovation is often less like climbing a ladder and more like crossing a river by jumping from stone to stone. The path isn’t visible until you look back.

Even Evolution Isn’t Straightforward

Stephen Jay Gould, one of my former professors, had a term for this in evolutionary biology: punctuated equilibrium . Rather than slow, continuous change, species often evolve in bursts—long periods of stasis followed by dramatic, sudden leaps. It’s messy. It’s unpredictable. And it’s how nature works.

So why would we think that human creativity, innovation, or personal growth would be any different?

When Metrics Mislead

Sometimes, what we believe is progress actually moves us further from our goals. Ben Azadi, in his new book Metabolic Freedom , tells the story of a client who wanted to lose weight. Every morning, this person dragged themselves out of bed at 5am to hit the gym, determined to burn off the pounds. But they were also deeply sleep-deprived. The scale wouldn’t budge.

The fix? Sleep more. Work out less.

As counterintuitive as it sounds, shifting that focus led to real weight loss. The problem wasn’t discipline—it was direction. The client wasn’t lazy. They were just following the wrong metric.

And this isn’t just a health issue. It’s a human issue. We chase what’s measurable—money, hours worked, followers, output—because it’s easier to track. But not everything that counts can be counted.

A Holistic View of Health—and Greatness

At Alively , we believe health isn’t a single number or habit. It’s built across five interconnected pillars. You can’t neglect sleep to chase fitness. You can’t grind through stress and expect resilience to magically hold. The system works best when you care for all of it.

Greatness is the same way. You don’t achieve it by hammering one narrow objective. You achieve it by cultivating an ecosystem of ideas, experiences, and interests—and then following the paths that genuinely light you up.

Follow the Interesting

In Why Greatness Cannot Be Planned , the authors emphasize the importance of pursuing the interesting. Not the strategic. Not the efficient. The interesting.

That’s how I built my companies—not through carefully calculated business school frameworks, but by paying attention to what sparked my curiosity. That unplanned class anecdote. That conversation over lunch. A pattern I noticed in an existing business that begged to be explored. I didn’t know what I was building until I built it. I just knew it was worth exploring.

Curiosity isn’t frivolous. It’s foundational.

The Risk of Easy Metrics

The danger is when we let ourselves get hypnotized by easy metrics. Revenue. Growth charts. Round numbers. These are tempting because they’re tangible. But they can pull us off course.

The truth is, not everything meaningful can be captured in a KPI. Sometimes progress looks like slowing down. Sometimes innovation looks like stepping sideways. And sometimes, the best decision you’ll make will seem, in the moment, completely irrational.

That’s how greatness works. It doesn’t follow your plan—it rewards your attention.

Leave Room for the Unexpected

If there’s one takeaway I’ve learned, it’s this: make space for what you didn’t expect. Don’t let your calendar or your metrics crowd out your curiosity. If something feels interesting—even if it makes no sense right now—give it room.

Because you never know. That conversation at dinner? That class you almost skipped? That itch you can’t quite name?

It might just be the start of something great.

The Cost of Comparison: Reclaiming Joy in a World Obsessed with Metrics

Tue, 03 Jun 2025 12:30:08 GMT

It starts innocently enough.

You’re scrolling. Maybe LinkedIn, maybe Instagram. You see someone you know—maybe even like—posting their latest win: a funding round, a feature in a magazine, a new job, a bestselling book. You’re happy for them. Kind of. But also, if you're honest, something shifts in you. A subtle tightening. A quick glance at your own progress. A question you didn’t mean to ask yourself: Am I doing enough?

That’s the quiet tax of comparison. It doesn’t scream. It hums. And over time, if you’re not careful, it starts to drive the ship.

The Comparison Economy

We live in a world built to rank us—by followers, titles, income, likes, and status symbols. We’re praised for being seen. And even when we tell ourselves we’re not measuring, we often are.

That external scoreboard? It rewards the visible. But rarely the meaningful.

And if we let it, it quietly shifts our motivation from intrinsic to extrinsic—from being driven by what we love to being driven by how we’ll be perceived.

Intrinsic vs. Extrinsic: The Science of Motivation

Let’s get clear for a second.

Extrinsic motivation is when you do something for a reward or recognition—money, status, a gold star.
Intrinsic motivation is when you do it because it’s meaningful, enjoyable, or aligned with your values.

Research consistently shows intrinsic motivation leads to greater creativity, learning, and resilience. According to Deci & Ryan’s Self-Determination Theory, people thrive when they’re driven by autonomy, mastery, and purpose—not pressure or performance reviews.

Daniel Pink put it plainly in Drive: carrot-and-stick motivation might work for rote tasks, but when it comes to meaningful work, intrinsic wins—every time.

When the List Doesn’t Change You

I’ve experienced this truth firsthand.

When Get Out of My Head hit #5 on the Wall Street Journal Best Seller list, it was surreal. A milestone, no doubt. The kind of thing you maybe dream about. The kind of thing you think might do something—for your life, your mood, your sense of self.

And then the next day came. And you know what?

I felt the same as the day before.

My life didn’t change. The air didn’t smell different. My coffee didn’t taste better.

What had changed me was the process. The conversations I had with the amazing people profiled in the book. The months of research and reflection that stretched my thinking. The discipline it took to sit down, day after day, and wrestle with the blank page.

That was the gift. Not the list. Not the accolade. The work itself.

The Real Cost of Comparison

Comparison doesn’t just dull our joy—it clouds our decision-making. When we chase extrinsic rewards, we often:

Make short-term moves that look good on paper but don’t align with our long-term values.
Stifle creativity , because we’re scared of looking foolish.
Stop listening , because our ego already has the answer.
Lose our voice , trying to sound like someone who’s already “winning.”

And here’s the punchline: chasing external validation often undermines the very performance and fulfillment we’re after.

Returning to What’s Real

The best moments in my work—whether as a writer, founder, or just a human being—have come when I forgot there was an audience.

When I wrote because something inside me needed to be said.

When I built something because it mattered, not because it impressed.

When I had a conversation with no agenda, just curiosity.

These moments don’t get shared on social media. They don’t show up on leaderboards. But they’re the ones I remember. They’re the ones that shape me.

How to Reclaim Intrinsic Motivation (and Your Joy)

Want to step off the comparison treadmill? Here are a few practices that help me stay rooted:

Ask yourself often: “Why am I doing this?” Be ruthlessly honest. If the answer is applause, dig deeper.
Set identity-based goals. Not “I want to be a bestselling author,” but “I want to write with consistency and clarity.”
Curate your inputs. If certain platforms or people trigger comparison, limit your exposure. Your peace is more valuable than their updates.
Celebrate effort, not outcome. Keep a journal of what you’re proud of—especially when no one else sees it.
Mentally subtract. Imagine losing the external reward. Would you still want to do the thing? If yes, that’s your compass.
Talk to yourself like someone you respect. Would you judge a friend for not hitting a vanity metric? Didn’t think so.

Final Thought: Let the Work Be the Reward

There’s nothing wrong with goals. There’s nothing wrong with ambition. But when we let comparison or external validation steer the ship, we lose the very thing that makes the work meaningful in the first place.

Let the work be the reward. Let the process be your teacher. Let your motivation come from the inside out.

Because no list—no matter how high you climb—will ever give you what you can already give yourself: the joy of being fully, unapologetically engaged in your path.

The Right Kind of Inheritance

Tue, 27 May 2025 12:30:00 GMT

“You McConnells just think you should be happy.”

An ex once said that to me, and she didn’t mean it as a compliment. She said it with a bit of an eye roll, like the notion itself was naive—maybe even arrogant. And yet, I remember hearing it and thinking: Exactly . Yes. We do. We should be happy.

She meant it as a criticism. I took it as confirmation that I’d inherited something truly valuable.

I think back to a Christmas vacation years ago, sitting with my dad. He was a physician—brilliant, compassionate, steady. That day, he told me something with his usual clarity: “I won’t have a business to pass down to you. You’ll have to make your own way.”

There was no trust fund waiting. No ready-made company to take over. No inheritance in the traditional sense.

But that conversation wasn’t about lack—it was about abundance of a different kind. Because while I may not have had a financial inheritance to rely on, I got something better: a framework for living. A mindset. A calling.

My dad loved his work. As a pediatric cardiologist, he saved lives and brought calm to chaos. But more than that, he loved what he did. And he made sure I knew it. “If you love what you’re doing, you’ll never work a day in your life,” he told me—repeatedly. And he meant it.

My mom offered a different but equally powerful refrain: “This is no dress rehearsal.” In other words, this life? It's the only one we get. There’s no dry run, no do-over. So live it. Fully. Deliberately. With joy.

This was the inheritance I received. And it has shaped every major decision I’ve made.

When I finished law school and felt the gravitational pull of a legal career I didn’t want, I remembered: This is no dress rehearsal. And I pivoted, choosing McKinsey instead.

When I left the safety of a corporate job to start my first company, I was told I was taking a risk. But it didn’t feel risky—it felt aligned. It felt right.

And when I carved out time, in the midst of building that company, to write a book that was waiting inside me, it was because I couldn’t not do it. That’s what happens when your inheritance is a belief that you should be doing work that fills you up, not grinds you down.

People talk about “the grind” like it’s a badge of honor. I’ve never understood that. Life isn’t meant to be an endurance test. It’s meant to be experienced. Fully. Joyfully. Honestly.

And this doesn’t just apply to work.

People sometimes comment on my fitness routine as if it’s some kind of hardship. “You must be so disciplined,” they’ll say, as if what I’m doing is punishment. But the truth is, I love it. I love being in the gym. I love swimming. I love being in the ocean, feeling part of something vast and alive.

Case in point: a recent trip to French Polynesia. If you looked at my WHOOP strain scores from that week, you’d think I was training for an Ironman. But I wasn’t. I was in heaven—swimming with sea turtles, gliding alongside manta rays and stingrays, watching an octopus change colors right before my eyes. It wasn’t “exercise.” It was joy. It was wonder. It was play.

That’s the thing—when people say they hate exercise, I want to ask: What do you mean by that? Do you hate running? Weightlifting? Fine—don’t do those! But that doesn’t mean you hate movement. Maybe you’d love yoga, or paddle boarding, or dancing in your kitchen. Saying you don’t like fitness is like saying you don’t like food because you hate licorice. There are so many flavors. So many ways to move, to feel alive in your body. Why settle for drudgery?

The same goes for how we spend our days. Whether it's work, relationships, hobbies, or how we show up for ourselves—what if we believed we should actually enjoy these things? What if we believed happiness wasn’t some frivolous byproduct, but an actual goal worth pursuing?

That’s the inheritance I received. And my ex wasn’t wrong. I do believe I should be happy. I believe you should too.

And maybe even more importantly, I believe we get to define what “success” and “legacy” mean for ourselves.

My parents gave me no business to run, no stock portfolio to manage. But they gave me something far more enduring. They gave me permission to pursue what lights me up. They modeled how to be present in your life, how to take joy in your work, and how to treat each day as a precious, non-renewable resource.

That’s the right kind of inheritance.

And now, as I think about what I hope to leave behind—not just for my family, but for anyone I impact—it’s this: a belief that your life is yours to shape. That you don’t have to grind your way through. That joy is not optional. It’s essential.

So maybe ask yourself: What did you inherit? What beliefs about work, life, worthiness, and happiness did you absorb?

And more importantly: What do you want to pass on?

Because the most powerful legacy you can offer isn’t found in a will or a bank account. It’s in how you live, and what you model every single day.

Choose joy. Choose meaning. Choose presence.

That’s the inheritance that lasts.

The Health Paradox: Who Pays, Who Gains, and Why It Still Has to Start With You

Tue, 20 May 2025 12:30:06 GMT

Let’s talk about a weird contradiction we live with every day—one we rarely notice, even though it shapes our lives and our health outcomes in quiet but powerful ways.

In most Western countries, the people—you and me—are the ones who get the personal benefits of good health. More energy, longer life, better sleep, clearer focus, fewer pills, and more joyful moments. But the economic costs of poor health? They usually land somewhere else: on employers, insurance companies, and governments.

That’s the paradox. We live the benefits, but they pay the price.

This disconnect matters, because it shapes how our systems are designed—and how we, as individuals, are nudged, pushed, and sometimes dragged toward better health. The trouble is: motivation that starts outside of us rarely goes the distance.

So how do we fix this? How do we bridge the gap between outside incentives and inside drive—and maybe even get the best of both worlds?

Let’s unpack it.

Who Actually Pays?

Poor health isn’t just a personal inconvenience—it’s incredibly expensive.

Employers shell out billions each year in lost productivity, absenteeism, and higher insurance premiums. Governments foot the bill for preventable chronic diseases through Medicaid, Medicare, and public health programs. Insurance companies carry the costs of claims that could often be avoided through lifestyle changes.

Ironically, individuals don’t always feel the immediate hit in their wallets. We feel it in fatigue, or mood, or a prescription refill—but not always in dollars. That makes it easy to delay action. The cost is long-term. The comfort of the couch? Immediate.

And so we get wellness incentives: gym reimbursements, step challenges, even lower premiums for certain health behaviors. These can help—but they often don’t stick. Why? Because they’re built around someone else’s bottom line.

Motivation That Works (and What Doesn’t)

Research makes it clear: intrinsic motivation is the game-changer.

Studies like those based on Self-Determination Theory by psychologists Edward Deci and Richard Ryan show that sustainable behavior change comes from autonomy, personal relevance, and a sense of competence. Translation? We stick with what feels meaningful, self-directed, and achievable.

So while financial perks or pressure might kickstart a new habit, it’s internal motivation—what we want for ourselves—that keeps it going.

Health Investment That Makes "Dollars and Sense"

Here’s where things get interesting. Even though the benefits of better health show up on our skin, our sleep, our steps, the economic incentive to invest in that health often lives somewhere else.

Employers save money when workers are well. Governments ease budget strain with healthier populations. So yes—it makes dollars and sense for them to invest in programs that help people eat better, move more, and stress less.

But the key? Don’t stop at the spreadsheet. Programs that work best meet individuals where they are—not as line items, but as humans.

Make the Individual the Hero

Let’s flip the script. If we want people to care—and truly choose better health—we can’t just say “do it for the company” or “to reduce national healthcare costs.” That’s not a story anyone wants to live out.

What works is this story: What does a healthier version of your life look like?

Maybe it’s being able to lift your grandkid without back pain. Maybe it’s running a 5K or sleeping through the night without melatonin. It might be finally feeling good in your own skin, not for anyone else—but for you.

The story of a better life is far more compelling than any third-party incentive. And that story needs to feel accessible now—not 30 years from now. That’s where design matters.

Make It Real. Make It Visible. Make It Possible.

We live in the golden age of wearable tech and health tracking. You don’t need to guess if something’s working—you can see it, sometimes in real time.

Steps taken, heart rate lowered, hours slept, stress reduced. These tiny wins add up, and seeing them makes a huge difference in motivation. You feel momentum. You see proof. You can adjust when something isn’t working.

Wearables, apps, and data dashboards aren’t just gadgets—they’re modern tools for building intrinsic motivation. They turn vague goals into visible, trackable change.

Next Steps: Collective Responsibility, Personal Empowerment

So how do we move forward?

For organizations and governments:

Keep investing. But invest smarter. Choose strategies that empower autonomy, not just compliance.
Prioritize accessibility—healthy food shouldn’t cost more than fast food. Mental health care shouldn’t require a scavenger hunt.

For individuals:

Stop waiting for the perfect system. Start where you are.
Anchor your choices in what you want—joy, energy, strength, peace—not just what others tell you is “good for you.”
Use tools. Track progress. Celebrate tiny wins.

Conclusion: It’s Your Life—and That’s the Point

Yes, employers, insurers, and governments have skin in the game. And yes, they should continue to invest in helping people get and stay healthy.

But at the end of the day, you’re the one living in your body. You’re the one who gets to feel the difference. You’re the one who wakes up with more energy—or not.

That’s the real reward. And that’s why, even if you’re not the one paying the bill—you’re still the one who gets to choose the benefit.

Your health. Your story. Your move.

Choosing Curiosity Over Certainty: A Mindset for the Modern Age

Tue, 13 May 2025 12:30:07 GMT

I tend to think of my life in two distinct periods: the first, when I didn’t know anything. And the second, when I realized I didn’t know anything.

That shift—from unknowing to knowing I didn’t know—changed everything for me. Not overnight, but over time. It transformed how I approach learning, how I run a business, how I have conversations, and how I show up in the world.

In that first period, I was full of confidence in my beliefs. Whether it was politics, philosophy, spirituality, or whatever big idea was on the table—I had an opinion, and I held it tightly. If you disagreed, well, then it was time to debate. And I didn’t enter debates to exchange ideas. I entered them to win.

That need to be right? It didn’t come from malice. It came from a place I thought was noble: conviction. Passion. Purpose. But the older I got, the more I started to realize that certainty, especially in excess, is a form of blindness.

When the Cracks Started to Show

Somewhere in my late twenties, things started to shift.

I couldn’t help but notice how often I was wrong. How frequently new information came in that challenged the views I’d held tightly. I’d read something, hear a new perspective, or live through a situation that forced me to re-evaluate what I thought I knew.

And each time I changed my mind, I didn’t shrink. I grew.

The more I embraced that, the more liberating it became. I stopped needing to win arguments. I stopped needing to plant a flag on every topic. And I started getting curious. Not curious in a performative way, but deeply, sincerely curious about what I didn’t yet understand.

That was the beginning of the second period of my life: the one where I realized just how much I don’t know—and how powerful that realization really is.

A Lesson from the Startup Trenches

That mindset got put to the test when I built my first company. If there’s ever a crash course in letting go of ego, it’s entrepreneurship.

You go into a startup with ideas—strong ones. Beliefs about what customers want, how the product should look, what pricing should be, how to market. But the market doesn’t care how right you think you are. It only cares about what actually works.

That’s when I discovered a powerful mental framework: strong convictions, loosely held .

It means believing passionately, but not rigidly. Testing boldly, but adapting quickly. Holding your ideas like clay, not concrete.

This mindset saved me—more than once. It helped me pivot when a product wasn’t working, listen more closely to customers, and evolve faster than I ever could have if I’d stayed locked into “being right.”

The Joy of Not Knowing

Something else happened, too. As I became more curious and less certain, I started having better conversations.

Instead of listening just to find an opening for my rebuttal, I started listening to understand. Instead of needing to prove a point, I asked more questions. And guess what? I learned more. Not just facts, but about people. About where they come from. What they’ve lived through. Why they believe what they believe.

And I think—I hope—I became more enjoyable to be around.

Because let’s be honest: nobody likes talking to someone who always needs to be right. It’s exhausting. But talking to someone who’s open, who’s learning in real-time, who’s curious? That’s energizing.

Curiosity makes you lighter. Certainty is heavy.

Why This Mindset Matters (Now More Than Ever)

We live in an age where certainty has become a kind of performance art. Social media rewards the boldest take, the strongest stance, the snappiest takedown. Nuance? Not so much.

But here’s what I’ve found: choosing curiosity over certainty has made me not only happier, but more effective. In business. In relationships. In life.

Here’s why:

You learn faster. When you’re not defending old ideas, you’re open to better ones.
You connect more deeply. People feel safe with someone who’s listening, not judging.
You become more creative. Certainty narrows options. Curiosity expands them.
You find more peace. There’s no internal tension when you don’t need to be right all the time.

As the Stoics would say, we suffer more in imagination than in reality. And much of that suffering comes from our belief that we’re supposed to know everything. That’s a trap. And it's one you can step out of at any time.

Practicing Curiosity Daily

So how do you start? Here are a few things that help me:

Adopt the mantra: “I could be wrong.” Say it often. It softens your grip on certainty.
Ask more questions than you make statements. Especially when someone disagrees with you.
Listen to understand, not to reply.
Don’t tie your identity to your ideas. You’re allowed to evolve.
Consume content that challenges you. Not to argue with it, but to learn from it.
Celebrate mind-changing moments. They’re signs of growth, not weakness.

The Freedom in Uncertainty

At this point in my life, I don’t want to be the guy with all the answers. I want to be the guy who asks good questions. Who learns out loud. Who changes his mind in public and is better for it.

Because the truth is: I don’t know. And neither do you. Not fully. Not forever. That’s what makes life interesting.

So if you’re stuck in a mindset of always needing to be right, try loosening your grip. You might just find, like I did, that there’s a whole world waiting on the other side of certainty—full of wonder, wisdom, and the quiet joy of not knowing.

The Paradox of Progress: Why Having More Can Leave Us Wanting

Tue, 06 May 2025 12:30:06 GMT

When I started my first company, I thought freedom would follow. No boss, no office hours, no one telling me what to do. Just me, my laptop, and the wide-open promise of autonomy.

Instead, I found myself working more than ever.

The irony of our age is that we’ve made breathtaking progress—technological, medical, and otherwise—under the banner of freedom and ease. Yet many of us feel more trapped, more anxious, and more overwhelmed than ever before. The things designed to liberate us—the smartphone, the cloud, the work-from-anywhere ethos—have also shackled us to a perpetual mental treadmill.

We can work from anywhere, which now means… we work everywhere.

The Great Prediction That Got It Wrong

Nearly a century ago, John Maynard Keynes predicted we’d all be working 15 hours a week by now. Automation, he said, would eliminate the need for toil. Machines would handle the dirty work, leaving us to explore leisure, art, and family.

What happened?

Well, we did make the machines. But instead of slowing down, we sped up. We started multitasking and “optimizing.” And instead of choosing peace, we chose productivity—over and over again. Because beneath the convenience and speed of modern progress lies something far older and deeper: craving.

The Craving That Never Quits

Buddhism and Taoism understood something that our data-driven culture still hasn’t fully grasped: craving is insatiable.

The moment we hit one milestone—title, income, square footage—we see another gleaming just out of reach. So we push forward. And the more we achieve, the more convinced we become that just one more thing will bring peace.

Spoiler alert: it won’t.

This is the hedonic treadmill. You climb one peak of accomplishment only to see a higher one waiting. So you climb again. And again. Until you realize you’re not chasing success—you’re being chased by it.

As the Tao Te Ching reminds us: “He who knows he has enough is rich.” And yet, how few of us ever pause to truly ask, “Do I already have enough?”

Imagining Loss to Remember What We Have

There’s a Stoic practice called premeditatio malorum —imagining the loss of the things you hold dear. It sounds morbid at first, I know. But bear with me.

Imagine losing your eyesight. Or your partner. Or your health. Not as an exercise in anxiety, but in appreciation. When you truly see how fragile everything is, you also begin to see how precious it is. How enough it already is.

We rarely do this in our progress-obsessed culture. We focus on what's next. But peace doesn’t live in what’s next. It lives in the gratitude for what is.

Yes, Progress Is Amazing—But It’s Not the Point

Don’t get me wrong. I love progress. I’m fascinated by what AI can do, by what science is curing, by what we’re building together as a species.

Progress is a gift.

But it’s a terrible master.

If you tie your happiness to outcomes, you’ll always be at their mercy. Win the deal? Joy. Lose it? Misery. Get the promotion? Elation. Miss it? Defeat.

This rollercoaster is exhausting. It’s also unnecessary.

In Get Out of My Head , I talk about this exact trap. We give away our peace—not to bad things, but to good things. Success, ambition, growth. These aren’t enemies. They just make lousy landlords when we let them rent out our minds.

Work for the Process, Not the Prize

The ancient Stoics, Buddhists, and Taoists weren’t against progress. They were just clear-eyed about where happiness comes from. Not in the external world, but in how we relate to it.

As I learned firsthand building my company, the moment I stopped obsessing over the outcome—and focused on how I was showing up each day—everything shifted. I found more clarity. More presence. Ironically, more success too.

The key wasn’t more hustle. It was more equanimity.

Progress should be pursued for the love of the process, not the thrill of the prize. And when the prize does come? Great. Celebrate it. Then let it go. Don’t let it define you. Because nothing outside of you can.

What to Do With This

So how do we escape the trap?

Here are a few things that help me:

Set boundaries. Just because you can work from bed doesn’t mean you should. Your mind needs places and times to rest.
Practice negative visualization. Picture losing what you have—not to scare yourself, but to spark gratitude.
Check your craving. Ask: “Am I chasing this because it brings me joy, or because I think it will finally make me enough?”
Return to now. The only place you ever really own is this moment. The future is a dream. The past, a ghost.

Owning Your Journey

Progress will continue. It should. But let’s not confuse having more with being more. Let’s not mistake motion for meaning.

You are not your job title. You are not your calendar. You are not your inbox.

You are the thinker behind the thoughts. The being behind the doing. And when you can root yourself in that identity—not in your outcomes—you become unshakeable.

So climb that next mountain. Build that next company. Write that next chapter.

But do it because it brings you alive—not because you think it will finally make you whole.

You already are.

The Fitness Fallacy: Why More Exercise Doesn’t Always Mean Better Health

Tue, 29 Apr 2025 12:30:00 GMT

For years, I believed in the grind. Push harder. Train more. Rest is for the weak—or at least, for people with less discipline. And to be fair, that mindset served me well for a while. I was a competitive swimmer, often training five or more hours a day, rarely taking a full day off. My body handled it. My mind thrived on the structure. But here's the thing: just because something worked once doesn’t mean it still works. And just because you can doesn’t always mean you should.

There’s been an ongoing debate in fitness circles about “overtraining.” Some argue it’s largely a myth, that the average person isn’t putting in nearly enough volume or intensity to reach a true state of overtraining. They’ll point to athletes like LeBron James or Cristiano Ronaldo who train daily, intensely, and seemingly without burnout. But here’s what often gets left out of that comparison: those athletes recover like it’s their full-time job. Because it is.

They’re not squeezing in workouts before a full workday or sneaking in a gym session between dinner and bedtime stories. They’re napping mid-afternoon, getting massages and cryotherapy, dialing in every calorie they consume, and sleeping like royalty. They push hard, yes—but they recover even harder. Their volume is high, but so is their recovery ratio.

That’s the part that most of us miss.

It’s not always that you’re overtraining—it’s that you’re under-recovered. Your body can probably handle more than you think. The human body is remarkably adaptable. But recovery isn’t just something that happens in the background. It takes time, attention, intention. And for many of us, those are in short supply.

Take me. After retiring from competitive swimming, I didn’t stop training. In fact, for about nine years, I didn’t take a single day off. Not one. I was still chasing that familiar feeling of discipline, of motion, of “doing the work.” But I wasn’t 20 anymore. I wasn’t living in a dorm with someone else handling my food. I had a company to build, a daughter to raise, boards to serve, people counting on me in ways I couldn’t have imagined when swimming was the center of my life.

And yet, I kept training like it was. Until it finally hit me: I wasn’t overdoing the workouts—I was under-doing the recovery. The way I had allocated time made sense back then. It didn’t anymore.

So I made a shift. Not by stopping my training, but by rebalancing the equation. I realized that for this season of life, some of the time and energy I’d been pouring into fitness needed to be rerouted toward recovery. That meant listening to my body when it asked for a break. That meant recognizing that mental and emotional fatigue mattered, too. That meant getting real about how much of myself I was spending outside the gym—so I could be smarter about what I asked of myself inside it.

This isn’t just about me. It’s a lesson I think more people need to hear. We’re told to push. To grind. To get one more rep, one more mile, one more class. But we’re rarely told to check in with what season of life we’re in. Or to adjust our expectations accordingly.

Maybe you’re a new parent who’s barely sleeping. Maybe you’re managing a business, or caring for aging parents, or just juggling life at full tilt. In those moments, it’s not about giving up on fitness—it’s about redefining what health looks like. Because let’s be honest: if you’re running yourself into the ground with workouts and then crashing through the rest of your day, that’s not fitness. That’s just another form of burnout.

Instead, start thinking about your recovery ratio. How much effort are you putting into repairing what you’re tearing down? Are you sleeping enough? Eating to support your energy? Taking rest days seriously, or just using them to catch up on all the other things? Are you ever still?

If the answer is no, then it doesn’t really matter how “reasonable” your workout volume seems on paper. Your body doesn’t operate on spreadsheets. It operates on rhythm—on stress followed by rest. If you’re constantly adding stress without ever refilling the tank, even the lightest load eventually becomes too much.

So what do we do?

Start by reframing recovery as part of your training—not the absence of it. Build your week with intentionality. That might mean a full rest day. Or it might mean active recovery: walking, stretching, easy movement that restores instead of depletes. Treat sleep like a training session. Protect it. Prioritize it. And give yourself permission to adjust your intensity based on what the rest of your life looks like.

Track your recovery the same way you track your lifts or your runs. Note your mood, your energy, your motivation. These things are data, too. And sometimes the best metric of progress isn’t how much more you can do—but how much better you feel doing it.

For me, finding that healthier rhythm didn’t mean training less—it meant training smarter. It meant remembering that fitness is supposed to support my life, not compete with it. It’s a lesson I learned the hard way, but one I hope others can adopt with a little more grace.

At the end of the day, more isn’t always better. Better is better. So yes, your body can probably handle more. But can your life? That’s the real question.

And if the answer is no, maybe it’s time to do the radical thing.

Maybe it’s time to rest.

The Myth of Balance: Why Living in Extremes Might Actually Keep You Saner

Wed, 23 Apr 2025 10:02:15 GMT

Everyone talks about balance like it’s the ultimate life goal. Work-life balance. Balanced diets. A balanced mindset. It’s everywhere. But lately, I’ve started to question whether “balance” is actually the answer—or just a comforting illusion we tell ourselves when we’re overwhelmed by how messy life can be.

Because here’s the thing: trying to keep everything in perfect balance all the time can feel like walking a tightrope in a windstorm. It's exhausting. What if, instead of aiming for moderation in all things, we actually embraced the power of extremes? What if that was more sustainable, not less?

Let me explain.

We live in a world of chronic, low-grade stress. Emails that never stop. Notifications that buzz at all hours. A constant drizzle of minor demands. It doesn’t seem like much in the moment, but it adds up. We’re always “on,” and rarely truly off. That kind of background noise is draining in a way that a short, intense sprint of effort never is.

Think about it. An hour of focused, hard work followed by real rest feels a lot better than six hours of half-working, half-scrolling, half-existing. We’re not built for constant “meh.” We’re built for peaks and valleys.

This is why the concept of oscillation—cycling between extremes of intensity and recovery—makes so much sense. It’s not about chaos. It’s about rhythm. And our bodies and brains love rhythm.

Take HIIT workouts, for example. You go hard for 30 seconds, rest, repeat. That contrast is what makes the exercise effective. The same goes for fasting. Constant grazing keeps insulin high and the body sluggish. But extended breaks between meals can give your metabolism time to reset and repair.

Then there’s heat and cold exposure. It’s not just wellness hype—subjecting your body to temperature extremes can be surprisingly good for you. Most of us live at a constant 72 degrees, in climate-controlled comfort. But that comfort can come at a cost. Our nervous systems get soft. Our stress response systems grow dull. And our bodies lose some of the adaptability that kept our ancestors resilient and ready.

Extreme cold and extreme heat challenge the body in powerful ways. Cold exposure, like ice baths or cold showers, activates brown fat (which helps regulate temperature and burn energy), improves circulation, and floods the brain with norepinephrine—a neurochemical that boosts focus, mood, and mental clarity. It’s also been shown to reduce inflammation and improve tolerance to psychological stress. You come out of the cold not just awake, but alert, calm, and grounded.

On the flip side, heat—like time in a sauna or even hot yoga—induces its own cascade of benefits. Prolonged heat exposure mimics cardiovascular exercise, increasing heart rate and improving blood flow. It stimulates the production of heat shock proteins, which help repair damaged cells and support cellular longevity. Regular sauna use has been linked to reduced risk of cardiovascular disease, lower inflammation markers, and even improved cognitive function over time. Mentally, heat exposure can create a kind of meditative discomfort—it forces you to stay present and breathe through the intensity, much like cold.

Together, hot and cold exposure create a dynamic stress cycle. The extremes force adaptation. You’re teaching your body and brain that it’s safe to feel uncomfortable, and that discomfort can be followed by recovery. That’s powerful. It builds both physical resilience and mental grit—something that’s hard to cultivate when we’re always nestled in the comfort zone, literally and figuratively. Moderation might be safe, but extremes are where growth lives.

And this goes beyond the physical. Look at relationships. We're encouraged to maintain a “healthy social circle,” which often translates into spreading ourselves thin across dozens of surface-level connections. But what we really crave—what actually sustains us—is depth. The kind of conversations that last for hours. The kind of trust that’s built through shared hardship and joy. You don’t get that from balance. You get it from choosing intensity with a few, not moderation with many.

Even emotionally, the most meaningful moments aren’t balanced. They’re deeply felt. Falling in love isn’t balanced. Grieving someone you lost isn’t balanced. Creating something you care about isn’t balanced. It’s all-consuming. And while it can be messy and overwhelming, it’s also what makes life feel real.

There’s a Stoic undercurrent to this idea too. In Get Out of My Head, I talk about the dangers of living in a chronic state of mental tenancy—constantly reacting to others, living in moderation to avoid conflict or discomfort, and never really claiming ownership over our own minds. The Stoics weren’t about staying comfortable. They practiced hardship intentionally. Cold baths. Physical labor. Voluntary discomfort. They knew that growth required intensity, followed by calm reflection.

The same applies to modern life. When you’re constantly trying to keep everything in balance, you end up dulling your experience. You don’t give yourself permission to go all-in on anything, so you never really recover either. You just hover in this lukewarm zone of “pretty good,” which over time starts to feel more like “kind of numb.”

The irony is, when we embrace extremes—when we work hard and then truly rest, when we open ourselves to deep joy and deep grief—we often feel more stable overall. Because we’re not denying the reality of how we function. We’re working with it.

Sustainability doesn’t mean flatlining your emotions, your energy, or your experiences. It means fueling your life in waves. Going hard, then recovering hard. Showing up fully, then stepping back to recharge. That’s not reckless. That’s intentional.

Our ancestors lived this way out of necessity. They didn’t eat six small meals a day. They feasted when food was abundant and fasted when it wasn’t. They weren’t glued to a screen under fluorescent lights. They worked intensely when needed and rested deeply when they could. Their lives weren’t balanced, but they were aligned with the natural rhythms of survival.

And maybe that’s the real takeaway here. Balance sounds nice in theory. But in practice, what we need is rhythm. Tension and release. Intensity and rest. Depth and stillness.

So next time you feel off, instead of trying to even things out, maybe try leaning in. Sprint, then stop. Dive deep, then float. Push your limits, then give yourself space to recover. And trust that the extreme is not the enemy. It's the catalyst.

Not everything needs to be balanced. Some things are better lived in full. And when we stop chasing the middle and start owning our edges, life has a way of becoming more vivid—and maybe, just maybe, more sustainable.

Longevity Without Purpose: Are We Extending Life Without Knowing What to Do With It?

Tue, 15 Apr 2025 12:30:00 GMT

We’re living in a golden age of human optimization. Every day, there’s a new tool, protocol, or supplement promising to help us live longer, feel younger, and push the limits of aging. And don’t get me wrong—I’m here for all of it. I’m fascinated by the science, I love the discipline, and I’ve built Alively.com and the Home of Healthspan podcast on the idea that we can extend not just our years, but our vitality.

But here’s the uncomfortable question that keeps nudging at me:
What’s the point of living longer… if we don’t know why we’re here?

It’s a question I return to often. Because while healthspan is about adding more high-quality years to our lives, we still have to ask: What do we want those years to mean?

Adding time to the calendar is only part of the equation. The other part—the more important one, honestly—is how we fill that time.

The Empty Extension

We’ve become really good at prolonging life. But not so good at filling it with purpose.

Think about it: we can now talk seriously about people living into their 90s and 100s with more energy and better cognition than ever before. And yet, I’ve seen—and I’m sure you have too—people who technically “live long” but spend those years disengaged, disconnected, and unsure what they’re actually doing here.

That’s not what I want for myself. And I’m guessing it’s not what you want either.

Healthspan Needs a North Star

Here’s something I’ve learned over time: the body is the vehicle. But it still needs a destination. And that’s what purpose is.

At one point, I was doing all the right things for my health—working out, eating clean, checking all the boxes. But something still felt… off. I was chasing energy, but not asking where that energy was supposed to go.

It wasn’t until I started asking deeper questions—about fulfillment, alignment, and values—that things started to shift.

Extending life only really matters if we know what we’re extending it for.

What Is Purpose, Really?

Let’s break it down.

Purpose doesn’t have to be some big dramatic mission. It’s not always a career, or a legacy project, or a singular “calling.” Sometimes, it’s just a sense of direction—a reason to get up in the morning. A feeling that what we’re doing has meaning.

As Viktor Frankl put it, “He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.”

Purpose can show up in a million ways: in the people we love, the work we do, the causes we support, the curiosity we follow. The common thread? It gives our life shape. Texture. Anchoring.

Start with Values

So how do you find your purpose?

You start by uncovering your values.

Your values are the principles that drive your decisions, shape your relationships, and define what success looks like to you—not what someone else told you it should be. And until you’re clear on them, it’s hard to feel truly fulfilled, no matter how many years you add to your life.

There are a few tools I’ve found really helpful in this space:

Tony Robbins’ values exercise in Awaken the Giant Within is a great place to start. It helps you rank your current values, identify which ones you’re actually living by, and spot any misalignment.
Bart Foster’s book BusinessOutside also includes a strong, accessible framework for identifying your values and using them to guide not just your career, but your life.

These aren’t just feel-good activities. They’re the groundwork for a life of clarity and direction. Because once you know what matters most to you, everything else gets a little simpler.

Values and Relationships: The Alignment That Matters

Here’s another layer that’s easy to overlook: your values don’t just shape your purpose. They also influence the way you connect with others—and who you choose to walk through life with.

If your number one value is growth , and your partner’s is stability , that’s going to create tension. You’ll want to evolve, try new things, take risks. They’ll want to ground, secure, and preserve. Both are valid. But if you’re not aware of the difference, it’s easy to feel like you’re speaking entirely different languages.

You’ll feel like you’re constantly changing and learning, and they may see that as you “drifting” or becoming someone they don’t recognize.

This doesn’t just show up in romantic relationships—it applies to business partners, friendships, even your team. When values align, things flow. When they don’t, even small decisions can feel like battles.

That’s why doing the work to understand your own values—and being curious about the values of those closest to you—is one of the most underrated long-term wellness tools we have.

Purpose Fuels Longevity (Literally)

This isn’t just about philosophy—it’s biology.

Study after study has shown that people with a strong sense of purpose live longer, recover faster from illness, and maintain better brain function into old age. Purpose reduces stress. It boosts immune function. It even shows up in your cardiovascular health.

So yes, I care deeply about physical protocols. I love a good blood marker. But if you’re not working on why you want to live longer, then what exactly are you optimizing for?

Purpose Evolves—and That’s Okay

One thing I want to say, especially to those of us in midlife or later: your purpose is allowed to change.

Maybe what gave you fulfillment at 30 doesn’t light you up at 50. That’s normal. That’s growth. The beautiful thing about increasing healthspan is that it gives us space to redefine what matters, again and again.

Your purpose isn’t fixed—it’s alive. Let it evolve with you.

Fulfillment, Not Just Time

At the end of the day, longevity without purpose is just survival. Healthspan without meaning is just maintenance.

But when you know what matters to you—when you’re living in alignment with your values, surrounded by people who honor those values too—everything gets richer. The years feel fuller. The energy has somewhere to go.

And that’s what makes it all worth it.

One Question to Sit With

If you had 30 more years of great health—what would you want those years to mean?

You don’t have to answer it today. Just start asking. The clarity lives in the question.

Call to Action

Try a values exercise this week—either the one in Awaken the Giant Within or Bart Foster’s BusinessOutside. Ask someone close to you what their top three values are, and share yours. You might be surprised what comes up.

Longevity is the gift. Purpose is what we do with it.

Let’s make it count.

The Myth of the Perfect Routine: Why Flexibility Beats Rigidity

Tue, 08 Apr 2025 12:30:00 GMT

I used to be the kind of person who took a certain pride in sticking to the plan—no matter what. If my calendar said squats on Tuesday, then squats were happening, even if my body was whispering (or screaming) otherwise.

One time, that voice wasn’t whispering at all—it was practically yelling. I had just done a brutal workout with my trainer: 210 reps of deadlifts. Yes, two hundred and ten. By the end, my legs were toast. I could barely walk up stairs. But the next day, I woke up, looked at my self-imposed training schedule, and saw “squats.” So that’s what I did.

The result? I injured my back. The kind of injury that doesn’t just sting for a day or two—it lingered for weeks. What started as dedication turned into something closer to stubbornness. Looking back, it wasn’t about progress. It was about proving something to myself—following the script, even when the story had clearly changed.

That moment ended up being a wake-up call. Not just physically, but mentally too.

The Illusion of the “Perfect” Routine

There’s something comforting about a perfectly laid-out routine. It gives us structure, predictability, even a sense of control. But what I’ve learned—through trial, error, and a whole lot of humble pie—is that sometimes, control isn’t the same as wisdom.

Rigid routines can feel productive, but they can also become cages. We stop listening to our bodies and start obeying the calendar. And when we do that, we’re no longer partnering with our health—we’re managing it like a to-do list.

This realization didn’t come to me overnight. It started to unfold through conversations on Home of Healthspan—the podcast that’s honestly become one of my greatest teachers.

“Work It Until It’s Sore, Rest It Until It’s Not”

One thing I kept hearing from guests—many of whom are at the top of their game when it comes to longevity, strength, and overall wellness—was this idea of listening to the body. Not in a vague, airy way, but in a real, grounded, practical way.

One guest in particular shared something that stuck with me. She said she’d “work something until it was sore, and then rest it until it wasn’t anymore.”

Simple, right? But for someone like me—someone who used to follow programs to the letter—it felt radical.

She wasn't chasing soreness for its own sake. And she certainly wasn't stacking hard days on top of hard days just to feel like she was making progress. Instead, she was paying attention. Letting the body lead, and letting the ego take a step back.

That idea—of responding, rather than pushing through—challenged so much of what I used to believe about consistency.

Flexibility Is a Strength, Not a Compromise

There’s a myth in the health and wellness world that discipline looks like doing the same thing, the same way, every single day. But the more I talk to people with truly extended healthspans—people who are not just fit, but thriving—the more I realize that adaptability is the real superpower.

They have frameworks, sure. But they don’t treat them like contracts carved in stone. They adjust based on sleep, stress, inflammation, intuition. They know that skipping a workout isn’t weakness if it’s done in service of longevity. That a “missed” day might actually be a win.

They’re not just consistent with effort. They’re consistent with attention.

That’s the shift I’ve been making, slowly but surely.

What Listening Looks Like Now

Nowadays, I move with more permission. I’ve started asking myself questions like:

Am I sore or am I injured?
Am I pushing through resistance or ignoring a warning?
Is this workout serving me, or am I serving the workout?

Some days, I still lift heavy or get after it. But if I wake up and feel off—like, deep fatigue or the kind of soreness that feels more destructive than productive—I’ll pivot. Maybe I’ll stretch. Walk. Meditate. Or just rest, fully.

The best part? I’ve noticed fewer injuries. More consistency (ironically). More joy in movement. And a better relationship with myself—one built on trust, not punishment.

Rethinking Progress

It turns out, progress doesn’t always look like sweat and soreness. Sometimes, it looks like sleeping in. Sometimes, it looks like swapping squats for a walk. Sometimes, it looks like silence—learning to hear the quiet voice in your body before it starts shouting through injury.

And honestly? That kind of progress feels deeper. It’s not just about getting stronger. It’s about getting wiser.

Let’s Drop the Myth

So here’s what I’ve come to believe: there’s no such thing as a perfect routine. There’s only the one that serves you today. And it might not look like yesterday’s. That’s not failure—that’s intelligence.

Rigidity can be seductive, but it’s often short-sighted. Flexibility, on the other hand, requires trust. It asks us to check in, stay honest, and adjust without shame. And when we do that? We give ourselves the gift of longevity—not just in our health, but in our relationship to it.

What’s Your Body Saying Today?

If you’ve been sticking to a routine just because it’s “what you’re supposed to do,” maybe today’s the day to check in. Not with the calendar—but with your body.

What’s it asking for?

And more importantly—are you willing to listen?

Aging Well vs. Aging Less: The Real Goal of Healthspan

Tue, 01 Apr 2025 16:15:00 GMT

I get this question all the time: “What exactly is healthspan ?”

And honestly, I love it—because it means people are starting to think beyond just living longer. They're starting to ask how we can live better.

Usually, when I bring up healthspan, people assume I’m just talking about longevity—like I’m chasing some futuristic, age-defying hack to live to 120. But here’s the truth: I’m not interested in just adding years to my life. I want to add life to my years.

John F. Kennedy said it perfectly:

“It is not enough for a great nation merely to have added new years to life—our objective must also be to add new life to those years.”

That quote captures the essence of what this whole healthspan conversation is about. It's not just about how long we live. It’s about how well we live—for as long as we’re here.

So What Is Healthspan, Exactly?

Let’s break this down for a second:

Lifespan is how many years you live.
Longevity is usually about increasing that number.
Healthspan is the number of years you stay healthy—physically, mentally, emotionally. It’s the part of your life when you can move independently, think clearly, connect deeply, and live fully.

One of my favorite reminders comes from Seneca, who said:

“Life is like a play: it's not the length, but the excellence of the acting that matters.”

That’s it. Healthspan is about the excellence of the acting—the quality of the performance while you’re on the stage. You could have a short life that’s rich, full, vibrant—or a long one where the curtain drags on and on, but the joy and vitality are long gone.

The goal isn’t just to make the play longer. It’s to make every scene count.

Chasing “Aging Less” Isn’t the Answer

We live in a culture obsessed with anti-aging. There’s always some new product promising to reverse the clock, erase wrinkles, or boost longevity with a single supplement. And while some of those tools can be helpful, they often miss the point.

The goal isn’t to stop aging—it’s to age well.

Because what good is living to 100 if the last 25 years are spent in pain, immobility, or cognitive decline? I’d take 85 years of strength, vitality, and joy over a longer life marked by suffering and limitation any day.

We need to stop equating aging with decline. Aging is inevitable. Decline is not.

Healthspan Is the Goal

On the Home of Healthspan podcast, I’ve had the chance to speak with brilliant minds across health, science, fitness, and longevity. And time and again, I hear the same theme: it’s not about living forever. It’s about living well, for as long as possible.

That looks different for everyone, but a few key elements always show up:

Strong, functional muscles and bones
Cognitive sharpness and memory retention
Emotional resilience and connection
The ability to do the things you love—on your terms

These are the markers of healthspan. They’re what allow you to participate in your own life, not just observe it passively.

A Shift in Mindset

I’ll be honest—I didn’t always think this way. For a long time, I thought optimizing my routine meant pushing harder, doing more, checking every box in the name of performance. I wanted to “slow aging,” and I figured the best way was to out-discipline it.

But over time, and especially through these conversations on the podcast, I started to see things differently.

Longevity without vitality isn’t the win I thought it was. What I really want is to feel strong, mobile, present, and clear-headed for as many years as possible. I want to be the kind of person who’s still hiking, laughing, and learning at 80—not just surviving.

That’s the real measure of success.

Supporting Healthspan in Real Life

This shift in mindset has changed the way I live day-to-day. I don’t train just to hit numbers anymore—I train to support my future self. I don’t eat based on strict rules—I eat for energy, clarity, and resilience. I prioritize sleep and recovery as much as workouts. I try to protect time with people I care about. I find purpose in movement, creativity, and curiosity.

Healthspan is about building a life that supports who you want to be in ten, twenty, forty years—not just who you want to see in the mirror tomorrow.

Some of my favorite guests have shown me what this can look like. People who aren’t trying to age less, but who are aging with incredible presence and purpose. They don’t ignore the passage of time—they meet it with intention.

Vibrancy Over Vanity

It’s easy to get caught up in aesthetics, especially in a world that constantly glorifies youth. But here’s what I’ve come to believe: youth isn’t the goal—vibrancy is.

And vibrancy is ageless.

So the next time you hear the word “healthspan,” I hope you’ll think about it like this: it’s not about denying time. It’s about showing up for it. It’s about moving through the years with strength and grace, with purpose and joy.

It’s about not just adding time to your life—but adding life to your time.

Let’s Rethink the Goal

Are you chasing youth, or are you building resilience?

Are you looking for quick fixes, or are you investing in long-term vitality?

Aging well doesn’t require perfection. It requires presence. And the willingness to build habits today that your future self will thank you for—over and over again.

What About You?

If you had to choose one area to support your healthspan today—what would it be?

More movement? Better sleep? Less stress? Deeper relationships?

Whatever it is, I encourage you to start there. Not for the sake of longevity. But for the sake of living fully—for as long as you possibly can.

Because adding life to your years? That’s a goal worth chasing.

The Strength in Setbacks : How Failure Builds an Unbreakable Mindset

Tue, 25 Mar 2025 12:30:00 GMT

Failure. Setbacks. Challenges. We tend to see them as obstacles, but what if they’re actually the very things that make us stronger? What if every time we hit a wall, stumble, or fall flat on our face, we aren’t being knocked back to square one—but instead, being rebuilt stronger than before?

There’s a fascinating phenomenon in human biology: when a bone breaks, the area where the fracture occurred actually becomes denser and stronger during the healing process. The body doesn’t just restore it to its previous state—it reinforces it, making it more resilient to future stress. The same is true of our minds.

Each time we overcome a setback, we gather proof that we can handle difficulty. And the more proof we collect, the more confidence we gain in our own resilience. It’s a cycle: struggle, adapt, strengthen, repeat. The hard times we endure don’t just return us to where we started—they prepare us for what’s next.

And here’s the kicker: science backs this up. Studies show that the way we perceive struggle and stress has a direct impact on our ability to handle them. If we see setbacks as damaging, we suffer more. But if we recognize them as a catalyst for growth, we actually become stronger.

So, let’s reframe failure. Let’s see it for what it really is—not an end, but a necessary and valuable part of success.

Survival as Proof of Resilience

If you’re reading this, you’ve already survived 100% of your worst days. Think about that.

Every challenge you’ve faced, no matter how painful or overwhelming, you have made it through. You might not have emerged unscathed, and things might not have gone exactly as planned, but you’re here. And that’s proof of your resilience.

The problem is, we tend to forget this. When another failure hits, we often panic, convinced that this one is different, this one is the one that’s too big to recover from. But that’s never been true before—so why would it be true now?

Instead of seeing setbacks as a return to square one, we should recognize them as evidence that we are capable of navigating hardship. Like a broken bone healing stronger, every challenge we overcome reinforces our ability to handle whatever comes next.

The Power of Perception: How Mindset Influences Stress

There’s a well-known study in psychology by Dr. Alia Crum at Stanford University that illustrates just how powerful our mindset is when it comes to stress.

In her research, participants were split into two groups:

One group was told about the harmful effects of stress—how it can lead to poor health, burnout, and failure.
The other group was given a different message: that stress can actually be beneficial. They were told that it sharpens focus, enhances problem-solving skills, and strengthens resilience.

The results? Those who believed stress was harmful felt worse and performed worse. But the people who were told stress had benefits? They actually handled pressure better, performed at a higher level, and showed more favorable physiological responses—like healthier cortisol levels.

This proves something crucial: it’s not just stress or failure that affects us—it’s how we think about it.

Shakespeare put it best in Hamlet:

“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”

If we label setbacks as devastating, they will devastate us. But if we see them as opportunities, as stepping stones to growth, then that’s exactly what they become.

Failure as Feedback: Learning from Setbacks

Failure isn’t the opposite of success—it’s part of it. Every misstep contains valuable information that, if used wisely, can help us improve.

Companies like SpaceX and Dyson have built entire cultures around failure. SpaceX’s early rocket launches exploded repeatedly, but each failure provided critical data that led to success. Dyson spent 15 years and 5,126 failed prototypes before inventing the world’s first bagless vacuum cleaner.

The most successful people in history have failed, often spectacularly.

Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team.
J.K. Rowling was rejected by 12 publishers before Harry Potter was accepted.
Oprah Winfrey was once told she wasn’t fit for television.

The difference between them and those who give up? They saw failure as a teacher, not a verdict.

Practical Strategies to Leverage Failure

Knowing that failure can make us stronger is one thing—actually using that knowledge is another. Here’s how you can turn setbacks into a strategic advantage:

1. Reframe Your Narrative

Instead of saying, “I failed,” say, “I learned something valuable.” Instead of, “I’m bad at this,” say, “I’m getting better.” The language we use matters.

2. Keep a ‘Resilience Journal’

Every time you face a setback, write down:

What happened
How you felt
What you learned
How you moved forward

Over time, this journal becomes tangible proof of your ability to handle tough situations.

3. Conduct Post-Failure Analyses

After every failure, ask yourself three things:

What went wrong?
What did I do right?
What will I do differently next time?

By doing this, you extract lessons instead of just enduring disappointment.

4. Seek Controlled Challenges

Deliberately put yourself in situations that test you:

Try a new skill that’s outside your comfort zone.
Take on a responsibility that feels slightly beyond your current ability.
Push yourself in a way that forces growth.

Just like a muscle that strengthens with use, resilience grows through challenge.

Building Strength Through Adversity

Each time we endure something difficult, we gain more proof that we can handle hard things. The more evidence we collect, the stronger our belief in ourselves becomes.

Failure isn’t just something to overcome—it’s something to use. It sharpens our abilities, deepens our understanding, and makes us better prepared for whatever comes next.

Think back to the toughest moments of your life. Did they break you, or did they shape you? Did they ruin you, or did they force you to grow?

You are not the person who failed—you are the person who got back up.

And that? That makes you unstoppable.

Strangers and the Unknown: Choosing Hospitality Over Hostility

Sun, 23 Mar 2025 15:14:15 GMT

At birth, every single person in the world is a stranger to us. The doctor who catches us, the parents who hold us, the family who coos over us—they are unfamiliar faces in an unfamiliar world. Yet, within moments, we begin to learn the art of trust. We rely on others to feed us, keep us warm, and ensure our survival. As we grow, strangers transform into loved ones, caregivers, mentors, and friends. The unknown becomes familiar. The unfamiliar becomes safe.

But life does not unfold in a straight line. Relationships form, and sometimes, they break. People disappoint us. They betray our trust, leave us hurting, or simply drift away. In those moments, it is easy to withdraw, to build walls instead of bridges, to categorize others as hostis—an enemy, a threat, someone to be wary of. After all, if we don’t let others in, they can’t hurt us, right?

And yet, while shutting others out may feel like protection, it is also a kind of self-inflicted wound. Because just as strangers can hurt us, they can also heal us. They can surprise us with kindness, offer us laughter when we need it most, and stand by us in ways we never expected. The choice before us is one as old as language itself: do we treat the unknown with hostis—hostility, fear, and skepticism? Or do we embrace hospes—hospitality, generosity, and the willingness to trust again?

The Science of Connection

Choosing hospes is not just a sentimental ideal; it is a life-or-death decision. Research has consistently shown that meaningful relationships are critical to our physical and mental health.

Loneliness is as deadly as smoking 15 cigarettes a day. A landmark study published in PLOS Medicine found that social isolation increases mortality risk as much as smoking or obesity. Being disconnected from others is not just emotionally painful—it is physically harmful.
Strong relationships protect against dementia and heart disease. Studies from Harvard and the University of Michigan have found that people with deep social ties have lower rates of cognitive decline, lower blood pressure, and better overall cardiovascular health. Simply put, relationships keep our hearts—both literally and figuratively—strong.
Connection strengthens resilience. People with strong social support networks are better able to cope with stress, trauma, and grief. A listening ear, a comforting presence, or a shared moment of laughter can make the difference between despair and hope.

In a world increasingly divided by suspicion and guardedness, choosing hospes—choosing to trust, to welcome, to engage—becomes a radical act of self-preservation.

The Risk of Connection

Of course, it is not always easy. There are those who will take advantage of kindness, who will betray our trust, who will prove unworthy of the openness we extend. It is natural to recoil after experiencing hurt, to say, Never again. Never will I let someone in like that again.

And yet, what we gain from connection is far greater than what we lose. For every person who disappoints us, there are countless others who will stand by us. For every betrayal, there is a moment of unexpected kindness. Yes, some people will hurt us—but if we close ourselves off entirely, we deny ourselves the chance to experience the deep, meaningful connections that make life worth living.

Trust, But Be Wise

Choosing hospes does not mean being naive. It does not mean ignoring red flags or giving unlimited chances to those who have proven unworthy of trust. As the great Maya Angelou said, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”

Not everyone will reciprocate your hospitality. Some people operate in a spirit of hostis, and once that is clear, it is wise to step back. But that does not mean we close ourselves off to everyone. It simply means we become discerning in where we invest our energy.

Pour your time into those who live in the spirit of hospes—those who show up, who care, who embrace connection rather than manipulation. And when you find those people, hold onto them. Nurture those relationships, because they will be your lifeline.

Creating a More Hospitable World

If we all do a little more of that—if we each choose hospes a little more often than hostis—we will find ourselves in a far more hospitable, and far less hostile, world. It starts with small acts:

A warm smile instead of looking away.
A conversation with a new colleague instead of staying in your bubble.
An act of kindness with no expectation of return.
Reaching out to someone you haven’t spoken to in a while.

Each small act of hospes is a crack in the walls of isolation, a step toward the deep, fulfilling connections that keep us healthy, happy, and whole. Yes, the unknown is scary. Yes, people can and will hurt us. But if we approach the world with the belief that more people are good than bad, that connection is worth the risk, we give ourselves the best chance at a rich, meaningful, and well-lived life.

Because in the end, we all start as strangers. But we don’t have to stay that way.

The Sufficiency of Sufficiency

Tue, 11 Mar 2025 12:30:00 GMT

"No disaster is worse than not recognizing sufficiency
No crime is greater than acquisitiveness
Thus recognizing the sufficiency of sufficiency
Is eternally sufficient."

– Tao Te Ching

In just a few lines, the Tao Te Ching offers a timeless truth: our deepest struggles often arise from not knowing when we have enough. It challenges the instinct to want more, to chase endlessly, and to live in a state of perpetual dissatisfaction. This message feels especially relevant in today’s world, where we’re surrounded by messages that tell us we need more to be happy—more wealth, more possessions, more success.

The wisdom of sufficiency—of recognizing “enough”—runs counter to our consumerist culture. And yet, it is deeply human. For thousands of years, thinkers across cultures have recognized the power of this truth. It isn’t just an ancient ideal; it’s a practical philosophy that can profoundly improve our lives.

The Culture of Never Enough

We live in a world designed to make us feel insufficient. Advertisements, social media, and even casual conversations push the idea that happiness, beauty, success, and love are just one purchase or achievement away.

Consider the promise behind every ad: Buy this car, and you’ll finally feel powerful. Wear this makeup, and you’ll feel beautiful and loved. Upgrade your phone, and you’ll be ahead of the curve. These messages aren’t just selling products—they’re selling an idea that who we are and what we have is not enough.

Yet, we know from science that this is a lie. The phenomenon of hedonic adaptation teaches us that the joy of acquiring something new is fleeting. That car you saved up for, the new gadget you couldn’t wait to buy—within weeks, they simply become part of your baseline. Our happiness tends to return to its natural set point, no matter how much we accumulate.

And so, we get caught in a cycle. We chase the next thing, believing it will bring fulfillment, only to find that the goalpost has moved once again.

The Wisdom of Ancient Philosophy

The truth of sufficiency has been known for millennia. Across cultures, sages and philosophers have recognized that lasting contentment doesn’t come from acquiring—it comes from appreciating what we already have.

The Stoics spoke of wealth as "not in having great possessions, but in having few wants." Seneca, the Roman philosopher, cautioned against endless desire, writing, “It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, who is poor.”

Buddhism teaches the concept of non-attachment—the idea that craving is the root of suffering. By letting go of our desires for more, we free ourselves from the cycle of dissatisfaction. The Buddha’s Middle Way isn’t about deprivation; it’s about balance and recognizing sufficiency.

And then there’s the famous story about Joseph Heller, author of Catch-22. At a lavish party thrown by a billionaire, another writer asked Heller how he felt being surrounded by people who made more money in a week than he would make in a lifetime. Heller replied: “I have something they will never have.” When pressed, he explained: “Enough.”

Heller’s simple response captures the essence of what Lao Tzu taught centuries ago: The sufficiency of sufficiency is eternally sufficient.

The Sufficiency of Sufficiency

What does it mean to recognize the “sufficiency of sufficiency”? It’s about understanding that fulfillment doesn’t come from external sources. True sufficiency is not conditional—it doesn’t rely on a higher salary, a bigger house, or the latest gadget. It’s a mindset, an inner peace that arises from appreciating what we have, as it is.

When we fail to recognize sufficiency, we fall into the trap of acquisitiveness—the relentless desire for more. As Lao Tzu wrote, this is the greatest disaster, because it disconnects us from contentment and creates endless striving.

But when we embrace sufficiency, we find freedom. We’re no longer chasing or comparing ourselves to others. Instead, we can focus on what truly matters: relationships, experiences, and inner growth.

Practical Ways to Embrace Sufficiency

The wisdom of sufficiency is powerful, but living it can be challenging in a culture that constantly pushes us toward more. Here are some practical steps to help cultivate this mindset:

Practice Gratitude

Start a daily gratitude journal. Write down three things you’re thankful for each day.
Reflect on what you already have, rather than what you lack.

Declutter and Simplify

Go through your possessions and ask: Do I truly need this? Does it add value to my life?
Letting go of excess can help you focus on what’s most important.

Pause Before Acquiring

Before making a purchase, give yourself 24 hours to reflect. Ask: Am I buying this because I need it or because I think it will make me happy?
Recognize when your desire is driven by emotion rather than necessity.

Focus on Experiences Over Things

Invest in experiences, like spending time with loved ones or exploring new places, rather than accumulating material possessions.
Memories and relationships provide deeper, longer-lasting fulfillment.

Adopt a Stoic or Buddhist Mindset

Reflect on the teachings of non-attachment and contentment.
Meditate on Epictetus’s words: “He who is not satisfied with a little is satisfied with nothing.”

Embracing Enough in a World of More

In a society that glorifies busyness, acquisition, and status, embracing sufficiency can feel like you are going against the grain. Yet it’s a deeply human truth, one that has been echoed by sages and thinkers for thousands of years: Contentment doesn’t come from getting more; it comes from appreciating enough.

The Tao Te Ching reminds us that sufficiency is self-sustaining. It doesn’t rely on external circumstances or possessions. It arises from within, from a mindset of balance and gratitude.

So, in a world that constantly urges us to want more, let’s pause and ask: What would it mean to have enough? And how would it feel to recognize that, perhaps, we already do?

The sufficiency of sufficiency is eternally sufficient. It is the only way to truly be free.

Longevity Through Knowing When to Stop

Tue, 04 Mar 2025 13:30:06 GMT

In the Victorian era, the wealthiest members of society often had the shortest life expectancies. Why? Ironically, it was their access to money that contributed to their early demise. Wealth enabled them to chase every snake oil cure, elixir of youth, or extreme health treatment pitched by hucksters of the time. Their eagerness to invest in what they thought would extend their lives often resulted in harmful consequences.

Hearing this on a recent podcast reminded me of a passage from the Tao Te Ching:

"Covetousness brings ruin
Recognizing sufficiency and knowing when to stop
Avoids these consequences
And ensures longevity."

As someone who keeps a close eye on cutting-edge healthspan and longevity science, this wisdom hit close to home. I’ve tried my share of modern "elixirs"—rapamycin, NMN, NAD+, and urolithin A to name a few. While promising, these often come with a glaring lack of long-term data, especially for people who are otherwise healthy.

The truth is, I already focus heavily on the core pillars of longevity: fitness, nutrition, sleep, mindset, and social connection. So, I had to ask myself: Are these pills truly necessary, or could they be more harmful than helpful? Am I, like the wealthy Victorians, so focused on doing more for my longevity that I risk undermining it?

A History of Overdoing It

Throughout history, people have sought to cheat death, often to disastrous effect. In Victorian times, the wealthy elite chased youth through dubious tonics, extreme diets, and dangerous medical treatments. Many of these so-called cures contained harmful substances like mercury, arsenic, or opium. Their trust in these unproven methods did not extend their lives—instead, it often shortened them.

Fast forward to today, and while the tonics look different, the mindset remains the same. We’re bombarded by health fads, supplements, and biohacking trends promising to extend our lives and optimize our performance. From peptides to gene-editing techniques, the allure of "magic pills" persists.

Modern interventions like GLP-1 inhibitors (e.g., semaglutide or liraglutide) are one example. Originally developed to treat diabetes, they’ve gained widespread attention as powerful weight-loss drugs. Some now speculate about their potential longevity benefits, but the long-term effects—especially for healthy individuals—remain unknown. Could these drugs, which alter natural metabolic pathways, do more harm than good in the pursuit of healthspan?

The Modern Magic Pill Mentality

Today’s health-conscious individuals often find themselves seduced by the latest trends in longevity science. I’m no exception. I’ve experimented with a host of supplements, from NMN to rapamycin, all while keeping up with the latest studies and theories. But I’ve come to realize that while these interventions may hold promise, their true effects—both good and bad—will likely take decades to understand.

For those of us already prioritizing fitness, balanced nutrition, quality sleep, mental well-being, and social connection, these experimental interventions may provide marginal gains at best. At worst, they could disrupt the natural balance of our bodies.

This brings me back to the Tao Te Ching. The wisdom of "recognizing sufficiency and knowing when to stop" is just as relevant today as it was centuries ago. Sometimes, doing more can lead to less. Overloading the body with interventions or obsessing over optimization can create unnecessary stress—or worse, unintended harm.

Knowing When More Is Less

The paradox of longevity lies in this truth: More isn’t always better. Overdoing efforts to optimize health can backfire, just as it did for the wealthy Victorians.

Here are some examples:

Overtraining in fitness can lead to chronic injuries, burnout, and hormonal imbalances.
Extreme diets might cause nutrient deficiencies or disordered eating patterns.
Excessive supplementation or pharmaceutical use , such as GLP-1 inhibitors by healthy individuals, might disrupt natural processes in ways we don’t yet fully understand.

The Tao Te Ching reminds us to focus on balance and sufficiency. Clarity and longevity come not from adding more but from recognizing when enough is enough.

Focusing on the Fundamentals

Amid all the noise about cutting-edge longevity science, it’s easy to overlook the basics—the “macros” of health that provide the greatest return on investment:

Fitness : Consistent exercise tailored to your body’s needs.
Nutrition : A balanced diet rich in whole, nutrient-dense foods.
Sleep : Prioritizing rest and recovery for your body and mind.
Mindset : Managing stress, fostering gratitude, and practicing mindfulness.
Social Connection : Building and maintaining meaningful relationships.

These five pillars form the foundation of long, healthy lives. No pill or intervention can replicate their cumulative benefits.

After rereading the Tao Te Ching, I’ve begun to question whether my focus on experimental interventions distracts me from the fundamentals. Perhaps "recognizing sufficiency" in these pillars is the most powerful longevity strategy of all.

Tactical Steps to Simplify Longevity Practices

If you find yourself caught in the cycle of chasing the latest health trends, here are a few steps to recalibrate:

Reassess Your Priorities : Ask yourself: Have I mastered the basics before adding supplements or interventions?
Do Your Research : Evaluate the long-term evidence (or lack thereof) for any new treatment or supplement. Be skeptical of fads.
Adopt a Minimalist Approach : Focus on what’s truly necessary. Eliminate complexity and stick to the essentials.
Practice Reflection : Use mindfulness or journaling to assess whether your actions are aligned with your goals—or if they’re distractions.
Know When to Stop : Learn to recognize when you’ve done enough. Resist the urge to constantly tweak or optimize.

Recognizing Sufficiency as a Tool for Longevity

The pursuit of longevity can be a double-edged sword. While science offers exciting possibilities, the wisdom of the Tao Te Ching reminds us of a deeper truth: Sometimes, the greatest gains come from knowing when to stop.

The wealthy Victorians fell victim to their relentless pursuit of health, harming themselves in the process. Let’s not repeat their mistakes. Instead, let’s prioritize the fundamentals—fitness, nutrition, sleep, mindset, and connection—and pause before chasing the next "magic pill."

So, I leave you with this question: What is one area in your own life where your efforts to improve might actually be holding you back?

The Muddy River: Finding Clarity Through Stillness

Tue, 25 Feb 2025 13:30:01 GMT

Imagine standing by the edge of a river. The water is clear, and you can see the rocks and sand at the bottom. But then, someone steps into the river, stirring up the silt. The water becomes murky, and the ground below vanishes from sight. No matter how hard you squint, you can’t see through the cloudy water. But if you wait—if you remain still—the silt will settle, and the river will regain its clarity.

This simple, natural process offers a profound metaphor for our lives. When we face challenges, uncertainty, or tough decisions, our instinct is to act. We stir the water, filling the time and space with activity—making plans, overthinking, doing something just to feel in control. But in doing so, we often cloud our own minds, losing sight of what truly lies below. The truth is, sometimes the most productive thing we can do is…nothing at all.

The Human Impulse to Act

In our modern world, busyness is often equated with success. Productivity gurus, social media, and even our own internal voices urge us to stay busy, to do more, and to never waste a moment. We live in a culture that celebrates action as the solution to every problem.

When faced with uncertainty, we tend to fill the void with activity:

When a relationship feels uncertain, we text, call, or demand answers instead of letting things breathe.
When work becomes overwhelming, we create endless to-do lists, assuming that doing more will magically fix the situation.
When tough decisions arise, we often leap into action to avoid the discomfort of waiting.

Like the river, this constant stirring prevents us from seeing clearly. Our frantic efforts to fix, plan, or control only create more chaos. Instead of solving the problem, we end up muddying the waters further.

The Power of Stillness

Stillness is the antidote to this chaos. As Ryan Holiday writes in Stillness Is the Key, “Stillness is not about inactivity. It’s about presence and being intentional with your thoughts and actions.” Stillness allows us to step back, observe, and let the silt in our lives settle naturally.

Stillness is not laziness or passivity. It is an active process of making space for clarity. When we stop stirring the river, we give ourselves the opportunity to see the ground beneath—the deeper truths of a situation, the emotions we’ve been avoiding, or the path forward that was previously hidden.

Consider the leader who faces a tough decision. Instead of reacting impulsively, they take time to reflect. By allowing stillness to guide them, they uncover insights they might have missed in the chaos of immediate action. Or think of a personal moment when a problem resolved itself after you stepped back and stopped forcing a solution.

In my own life, I’ve often found clarity during quiet, reflective moments. Whether it’s sitting in silence or swimming in the ocean without distractions, these pauses help me reconnect with what truly matters. My mind clears, and the answers I was searching for tend to emerge naturally.

Lessons from Nature and Philosophy

The analogy of the muddy river reflects a truth found in both nature and ancient philosophy. In Taoism, the concept of wu wei—often translated as “non-action”—teaches us that the best results often come from allowing things to unfold naturally, without forcing outcomes.

Stoicism echoes this wisdom. Marcus Aurelius, the Roman emperor and Stoic philosopher, wrote in his Meditations: “A wise person does nothing against their will, nothing with the intent to harm, and nothing without careful consideration.” Both Taoism and Stoicism remind us that clarity comes not from controlling everything, but from letting go and observing with patience.

Nature itself thrives on this principle. Rivers clear when left undisturbed. Ecosystems find balance when humans step back. The natural state often knows how to restore itself if we allow it the time and space to do so.

Practical Steps to Embrace Stillness

Cultivating stillness in a world of relentless activity can feel challenging, but it’s entirely possible with intention. Here are some practical steps to help you embrace stillness in your life:

Pause Before Acting
When faced with a tough decision, resist the urge to act immediately. Sit with the discomfort of uncertainty and give yourself time to reflect. Ask yourself: Is this action necessary, or am I doing it to fill the void?
Create Space for Reflection
Schedule regular “empty” time in your day. This could be as simple as 10 minutes of sitting quietly, journaling, or meditating. Protect this time from distractions.
Observe Without Judgment
Practice mindfulness by observing your thoughts without trying to control or fix them. Let your mind settle, like the silt in the river, and see what emerges naturally.
Step Back from Overplanning
Let go of the need to map out every detail or solve every problem immediately. Trust that some answers will reveal themselves in their own time.
Find Solitude in Nature
Spend time outdoors without your phone, music, or podcasts. Listen to the wind, watch the trees sway, and allow yourself to feel the stillness of the natural world.

A World of Frantic Activity

In a society that glorifies busyness, embracing stillness can feel countercultural. Yet it is in these moments of non-action that we find our greatest clarity. Constant activity clouds our vision and leaves us disconnected from ourselves and the world around us.

The next time you’re tempted to act, ask yourself: Is this truly necessary, or am I stirring the water out of habit? Remember that stillness is not about doing nothing—it’s about allowing clarity to arise naturally.

The muddy river clears when left undisturbed. So, too, do our minds and lives. By embracing stillness, we can uncover deeper truths, make wiser decisions, and reconnect with a sense of peace and purpose.

In a world of constant activity, the most profound action we can take is sometimes no action at all.

The Good Side of Stress: Rethinking the Role of Stress in Longevity

Tue, 18 Feb 2025 13:30:08 GMT

When we hear the word “stress,” it’s usually with a negative connotation. Stress has been cast as the ultimate villain in the story of health and well-being, blamed for everything from sleepless nights to serious health conditions. But what if I told you that stress isn’t always the enemy? In fact, small, manageable doses of stress—whether physical, emotional, or environmental—might actually be one of the keys to resilience, growth, and even longevity.

This idea is rooted in a concept called hormesis, which suggests that low-level stressors can toughen us up, activating the body’s natural defenses and preparing us to handle bigger challenges down the road. Stress, in this sense, becomes less of an obstacle and more of a training partner.

The Science of Hormesis

Hormesis is a fancy term for something we’ve likely all experienced: a little bit of adversity can make us stronger. Biologically, it’s the phenomenon where small doses of something that could be harmful in large amounts actually benefit us. Think of it like a vaccine—introducing a small amount of a pathogen to build immunity.

In terms of longevity, hormetic stressors like mild heat exposure, calorie restriction, or physical exercise trigger survival mechanisms in the body. These mechanisms activate repair processes, improve cellular function, and, in some cases, extend lifespan.

Take caloric restriction, for example. By periodically eating less (or fasting), organisms from yeast to humans activate a survival response that improves resilience. Studies show that this kind of “dietary stress” stimulates cellular repair mechanisms, increases stress resistance, and can promote a longer, healthier life. It’s one of the reasons I personally do several multi-day fasts each year—they aren’t easy, but the payoff for my body feels worth it.

Exercise: The Classic Hormetic Stressor

Exercise is the most familiar form of hormetic stress. Everyone knows that working out puts stress on your body: your muscles ache, your heart races, and your body burns energy. But here’s the thing: this temporary stress pushes your body to adapt. Over time, regular exercise strengthens your muscles, improves cardiovascular health, and even boosts your brain function.

What’s more, this stress teaches your body to deal with oxidative damage—a natural byproduct of energy production. Exercise essentially trains your body to repair itself better and faster, making you more resilient not only in the gym but in life.

Emotional and Psychological Stress: The Unexpected Ally

Not all stress comes from the gym or the dinner plate. Life throws plenty of emotional and psychological curveballs our way, and while chronic stress can be harmful, short-term, manageable stressors can actually help us grow.

Take the concept of post-traumatic growth. People who’ve faced adversity often come out the other side stronger, with a deeper appreciation for life, stronger relationships, and a sense of resilience. Edith Eger, a Holocaust survivor and psychologist, is one of the most inspiring examples of this. She credits her long and fulfilling life to her ability to accept and grow from the extreme hardships she endured. As she puts it, you don’t need to run from past pain—you can learn from it and use it to move forward.

The lesson here? We don’t have to avoid all emotional stress. In fact, leaning into manageable challenges—whether it’s public speaking, taking on a new project, or having a tough conversation—can build confidence and emotional endurance.

Environmental Stressors: Hot and Cold for Health

Then there’s the stress we can’t see, but can feel—like exposure to heat or cold. These environmental stressors might sound uncomfortable (and they can be), but they can also kickstart powerful adaptive responses.

For instance, sauna sessions and cold showers—two extremes of the temperature spectrum—have been shown to improve cardiovascular health and increase stress tolerance. That initial discomfort you feel is your body gearing up its defenses. Over time, it learns to handle stress better, making you tougher both physically and mentally.

Dynamic Equilibrium: Finding Your Personal Stress Sweet Spot

Here’s the catch: the right amount of stress isn’t the same for everyone, and even for you, it can change over time. This isn’t about finding a static balance; it’s about achieving a dynamic equilibrium—a state where the level of stress you face matches what you’re equipped to handle at any given moment.

Some days, you might be ready for a high-intensity workout or a tough mental challenge. Other days, the best you can do might be a short walk or a deep breath. Both are okay. The key is recognizing where you are in that moment and adjusting accordingly.

Dynamic equilibrium is about flexibility. It’s knowing that what worked for you last year, last week, or even yesterday might not be the right fit today. It’s about listening to your body and mind, respecting your limits, and embracing stress in doses that challenge you without overwhelming you.

Practical Ways to Use Stress for Good

Move Your Body
Exercise doesn’t have to mean grueling workouts. Start with something sustainable—walks, yoga, or light strength training—and gradually increase intensity. Let your body adapt and grow stronger over time.
Eat Less (Sometimes)
Consider intermittent fasting or a few calorie-restricted meals under guidance. It’s not about starving yourself but giving your body the occasional stress of working harder to maintain itself.
Face Life’s Challenges Head-On
Avoiding stress altogether isn’t the goal. Instead, face manageable challenges with tools like mindfulness, therapy, or journaling. Every small victory builds your resilience for the bigger battles.
Try Temperature Therapy
Brave a cold shower or relax in a sauna. It’s uncomfortable at first, but over time, these environmental stressors can improve your tolerance for discomfort—and your overall health.

Stress: A Tool for a Better Life

When we rethink stress, we see it not as the enemy but as an ally in disguise. Small, manageable stressors—physical, emotional, or environmental—can strengthen us, build resilience, and ultimately, help us live longer, healthier lives.

The trick is in the approach: embrace stress in doses that challenge you without overwhelming you. In doing so, you’ll discover that stress doesn’t have to be a constant battle. Instead, it can be the quiet partner that pushes you to be better, stronger, and more adaptable.

So, next time you feel the pinch of stress, don’t run from it. Instead, ask yourself: what is this teaching me? How can this help me grow? You might just find that the stress you once dreaded is actually the key to a better, longer life.

The Science of Love: How Romantic Relationships Boost Your Health

Tue, 11 Feb 2025 13:30:00 GMT

Valentine’s Day may bring to mind chocolates, roses, and candlelit dinners, but love is more than just a fleeting romantic gesture. It turns out, being in a loving relationship isn’t just good for your heart in the figurative sense—it’s also good for your health, literally. From reducing stress to improving longevity, the benefits of love are backed by science, showing that those emotional connections we value so much can also help us live longer and healthier lives.

Here’s how love, when it’s healthy and supportive, works its magic on our bodies and minds.

Love Lowers Stress

Stress, the bad kind, can wreak havoc on our health, contributing to issues like inflammation, high blood pressure, and even a weakened immune system. But love can act as a natural stress reliever.

Research shows that people in stable, supportive relationships tend to have lower levels of cortisol, the body’s primary stress hormone. When we feel supported and valued by a partner, our bodies don’t enter the same “fight-or-flight” mode that chronic stress triggers. Something as simple as holding hands with a loved one can significantly lower stress and make us feel calmer.

Physical touch, like a hug or even sitting close to someone, also plays a role here. It activates pressure receptors in the skin, which send calming signals to the brain. Ever notice how a hug can instantly make a bad day feel better? That’s love doing its thing, one embrace at a time.

Love and Your Heart

Love isn’t just about warm, fuzzy feelings—it’s also good for your cardiovascular system. Studies have found that people in loving relationships often have lower blood pressure and a reduced risk of heart disease.

One reason for this is emotional support. A partner who listens, encourages, or simply shares the load can help alleviate the stress that often strains the heart. Additionally, people in relationships are more likely to adopt healthier habits, like exercising, eating well, and quitting smoking, often thanks to a little nudge (or occasional nag) from their significant other.

When you’re in a healthy relationship, your partner becomes part of your team, actively contributing to your overall health. And that teamwork can do wonders for your heart, both emotionally and physically.

The Role of Oxytocin

Oxytocin is often called the “love hormone.” It’s released during moments of intimacy—think cuddling, kissing, or even just sharing a good laugh—and it’s a key player in bonding and trust.

But oxytocin isn’t just about feeling close to your partner. It also has powerful stress-reducing properties. It lowers blood pressure, soothes anxiety, and fosters feelings of safety and well-being. Essentially, oxytocin acts like a biological shield, helping us feel more secure and resilient in the face of life’s challenges.

When oxytocin flows, we’re better equipped to handle emotional or physical stress. This means love doesn’t just make us feel better in the moment—it also strengthens our ability to bounce back when life throws curveballs.

Love and Longevity

If you’ve ever heard that married people live longer, it’s not just a myth—it’s science. Research consistently shows that people in long-term, loving relationships tend to have longer lifespans.

One reason is the cumulative effect of all the health benefits we’ve talked about: reduced stress, better heart health, and stronger resilience. But there’s also a practical side. Partners often act as each other’s health advocates, noticing early warning signs of illness or encouraging timely medical care.

For instance, how many times has a spouse or partner insisted their loved one get that odd mole checked or see a doctor about a persistent cough? Those little nudges can literally save lives.

Beyond that, companionship itself provides an emotional safety net. Knowing you have someone in your corner can bring a sense of purpose and stability, both of which are tied to greater well-being.

The Catch: It’s About Healthy Relationships

Of course, not all relationships are created equal. A toxic or unsupportive relationship can do the opposite of all this, raising stress levels and even harming your health. It’s the quality of the connection that matters.

Healthy relationships are built on communication, empathy, and mutual respect. They’re don’t need to be perfect—no relationship is—but they need to involve both partners putting in the effort to support one another, even when times get tough.

If you’re in a relationship, take time to nurture it. Small gestures of kindness, like a heartfelt compliment or an unexpected hug, can strengthen your bond and amplify the health benefits of your connection. And if you’re not currently in a romantic relationship, don’t worry—many of these benefits can also come from close friendships or family bonds.

Love as Medicine

Love, in all its forms, isn’t just good for the soul—it’s good for the body, too. From lowering stress to improving heart health and even adding years to our lives, science confirms what we’ve always felt: love matters.

So this Valentine’s Day, as you celebrate with your partner or simply reflect on the love in your life, remember that those connections are powerful. They’re not just making you feel good—they’re making you healthier and stronger, too.

Take a moment to appreciate the people who lift you up and, if you’re lucky enough to have someone special, share a little extra love. After all, love might just be the best prescription for a longer, healthier life.

Discovering vs. Creating Meaning and Identity: A Fresh Perspective

Tue, 04 Feb 2025 13:30:00 GMT

What is the meaning of life?

Who am I?

These two questions have haunted humanity for centuries, whispered in moments of quiet reflection and shouted into the void in times of crisis. They seem to suggest that there is something waiting out there—something singular, absolute, and universal—just waiting to be uncovered. If only we look hard enough, the thinking goes, we will find the meaning of life and the truth of who we are.

But what if we’ve been asking the wrong questions all along? In The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy , Douglas Adams hilariously illustrates this point. When the supercomputer Deep Thought is asked to determine the "Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything," it arrives at the answer: 42. The problem? No one knows what the "Ultimate Question" really is. The absurdity underscores something profound: meaning isn’t handed to us on a silver platter. Often, the questions we ask shape the answers we receive—or reveal that perhaps we’re looking in the wrong place altogether.

The Traditional Quest for Meaning and Identity

When people ponder the meaning of life, it’s often in the hope of discovering something universal and immutable. Some look to biology, suggesting life’s purpose lies in survival or passing on our genes. Others find purpose in leaving the world a better place or following spiritual beliefs about divine plans. This quest for a singular truth feels comforting—a sense that there’s a cosmic instruction manual waiting to be uncovered.

The same is true for identity. From Shakespeare’s famous line "To thine own self be true" to modern self-help mantras about "finding your true self," we’re encouraged to believe there’s a core, unchanging "you" out there. The message is clear: if you haven’t figured out who you are, you need to go looking.

This perspective, though common, has its pitfalls. Searching for a universal meaning or a fixed self can become a passive exercise, leaving us frustrated if the answers remain elusive. And what if the answers don’t resonate? What if the "truths" we uncover feel disconnected from who we are—or worse, irrelevant?

The Alternative: Creating Meaning and Identity

Here’s a liberating idea: what if there is no singular meaning of life, no fixed "you" waiting to be found? Instead, what if the meaning of life and the essence of who we are is something we actively create?

When we stop searching for one-size-fits-all answers, we open ourselves up to infinite possibilities. The meaning of life isn’t out there, sitting in some cosmic archive; it’s something we give to our experiences, our relationships, and our choices. Viktor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist, argued in Man’s Search for Meaning that meaning is not discovered in some abstract sense but is forged in how we respond to life’s challenges.

The same is true for identity. Who we are isn’t a singular truth waiting to be uncovered but an ever-evolving combination of our genes, experiences, values, and choices. To say "this is who I am" ignores the dynamic nature of life. The "you" of today isn’t the same as the "you" of five years ago or even five months ago. We’re not static sculptures; we’re works in progress, shaped by the decisions we make and the paths we take.

Reframing the Questions

Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide reminds us that sometimes the questions matter more than the answers. If "What is the meaning of life?" feels too broad or unanswerable, perhaps we should ask better questions:

What gives my life meaning today?
What can I contribute to the people and world around me?
What small acts bring joy, purpose, or connection to my life?

Similarly, instead of asking, Who am I?, we might ask:

Who do I want to be?
What values do I want to embody?
What kind of person do I want to become through my actions and choices?

These reframed questions put the power back in our hands. Instead of searching for meaning or identity like a hidden treasure, we can actively shape them in ways that resonate with our unique experiences and aspirations.

Practical Steps for Creating Meaning and Identity

Reflect and Reevaluate
Set aside time regularly to reflect on what truly matters to you. Use prompts like: What do I value most right now? What legacy do I want to build? Be open to change—what mattered last year might not matter now, and that’s okay.
Adopt an Active Role
Life gains meaning through action. Pursue passions, nurture relationships, and focus on small, tangible ways to create purpose. The same goes for identity: define your values, make conscious choices, and embrace growth.
Balance Authenticity with Growth
Being true to yourself doesn’t mean staying stagnant. Embrace your current self while allowing space to evolve. We’re not prisoners of our past identities—we’re dynamic beings with the power to change.

The Challenges and Rewards of Creation

Creating meaning and identity isn’t always easy. It takes effort, self-reflection, and the courage to embrace uncertainty. Yet, these challenges are what make the journey so transformative. The rewards are profound: the empowerment of living with intention, the freedom to chart your own path, and the fulfillment of a life defined on your own terms.

When we ask questions like What is the meaning of life? or Who am I?, we can easily fall into an endless search for answers. But, as The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy reminds us, perhaps the "answer" itself isn’t the point. What matters is the questions we ask and the meaning we create in response. Life doesn’t come with a universal purpose, and that’s not a failure—it’s an invitation to craft our own.

You are not bound by a singular truth about who you are or why you exist. Instead, you hold the extraordinary power to define and redefine both meaning and identity as you grow. So, what question will you choose to answer with your life? Whatever it is, make it yours. Let it guide your actions and infuse your days with purpose, connection, and joy.

After all, maybe the real secret is this: your "42" isn’t discovered—it’s created, one choice, one moment, one question at a time.

Chasing the Wrong Star: Lessons on Redefining Success

Tue, 28 Jan 2025 13:30:00 GMT

Imagine spending decades working toward a goal, pouring your heart and soul into it, and then finally achieving it—only to realize it was never what you truly wanted. This isn't the fear of failure; it's the fear of succeeding at the wrong thing. It's the fear of waking up one day, surrounded by accomplishments that don’t resonate with your inner self.

This is a story about a friend of mine. By all external metrics, he’s the most successful person I know: a graduate of the best schools, an incredible athlete, financially secure, and blessed with a loving, expansive family. Yet, in his mid-40s, he came to a sobering realization: his accomplishments were largely shaped by what others wanted for him, not what he genuinely desired. For years, he had lived striving to make his parents proud, chasing the validation of others, and neglecting the hard work of asking himself, What do I really want?

His story hit me hard. As a parent, I can’t shake the fear of unintentionally steering my daughter down the same path—one where she spends years working toward something only to discover it wasn’t hers to pursue.

The Picture of Success and the Shadow Behind It

My friend’s life seems like a dream from the outside. He has checked off every box on the “success list.” But that very checklist was the problem: it wasn’t his. His well-meaning parents, like many of us, had created a roadmap they believed would lead to a good life, and he followed it diligently.

In conversations with him, I learned the issue for him came not from a lack of achievement but from the realization that he’d been living someone else’s dream. For all the success, he felt disconnected. He admitted he never took the time to figure out what made him happy because he was too busy making others happy.

A Personal Fear and a Parenting Revelation

That story left me with a nagging worry. As a parent, how do I ensure I’m not unknowingly nudging my daughter toward a life where she feels obligated to live for me or my expectations?

One day, while driving with her, this fear surfaced in an unexpected way. She casually said, “I have to swim because you and Mommy were swimmers.” My heart sank. I immediately stopped her: “You don’t have to do anything because of us. This is your life, not ours.”

She looked at me, puzzled. I explained that swimming was something her mom and I chose for our lives because we loved it. But she wasn’t here to fulfill our dreams. Her job wasn’t to make us happy; it was to find what she loved and pursue that.

It was a pivotal moment, but it didn’t stop there. I realized the conversation couldn’t end with, Do what makes you happy. I had to guide her to the next level: Why do you want it?

The “Why” Behind the Want

The truth is, even with good intentions, it’s easy to get caught up in pursuing what we think we want—only to find out later it was driven by external expectations. This is why I’m trying to teach my daughter, even at nine years old, to ask why. Why does she want to do X? Why does she want to excel in school or any other activity?

At her age, it’s unlikely she’ll have all the answers. But the practice of asking why is essential. It’s a skill that can prevent her from chasing someone else’s dreams and help her build a life that feels authentic.

As adults, many of us never learned this skill. We don’t stop to ask why until we’re already well down a path that doesn’t feel quite right. And while it’s never too late to course-correct, the earlier we start this work, the better.

The Danger of Deferring Self-Discovery

My friend’s story is a cautionary tale. He’s a living example of what happens when you don’t do the internal work to figure out what you truly want. Instead, you default to living for external validation, whether from parents, society, or peers. The longer you defer this self-discovery, the harder it becomes to disentangle your own desires from those imposed by others.

As I reflect on his experience, I can’t help but think about how easily this could happen to my daughter—or to me. It’s not enough to set goals or define success. We have to continuously ask ourselves if those goals are aligned with our values and passions.

A Call to Action: Start Now

The good news is that it’s never too late—or too early—to start this process. The best time to discover your true desires and motivations might have been when you were nine, but the second-best time is now. Whether you’re guiding a child or reflecting on your own path, here are some steps to start:

1. Ask the Hard Questions:

Regularly pause to ask yourself (or your child), Why do I want this? What do I hope it will bring me? These questions help clarify whether the pursuit is driven by genuine desire or external pressures.

2. Embrace Iterative Discovery:

Finding your path is not a one-time event; it’s an ongoing process. Encourage curiosity and the courage to change course when something doesn’t feel right.

3. Let Go of External Validation:

It’s natural to want approval from loved ones, but fulfillment comes from aligning your actions with your own values—not theirs.

4. Model the Journey for Others:

As parents, mentors, or friends, the best way to help others find their path is to show them what it looks like to walk yours authentically.

The tragedy isn’t failing to reach your goals. The true tragedy is spending years climbing a mountain, only to find it wasn’t the right one. My friend’s story serves as a powerful reminder that success without alignment to one’s true self is hollow.

Whether you’re nine or ninety, the journey of self-discovery is always worth taking. As parents, partners, or individuals, our responsibility is to build lives that feel honest and fulfilling—not to chase someone else’s version of success. Start today, ask yourself why, and never stop exploring the answers. Your life—and your happiness—depend on it.

To Be Filled but Unfulfilled: Reclaiming Space and Meaning in a Hyper-Busy World

Sat, 25 Jan 2025 13:30:00 GMT

Do you ever feel like your life is packed to the brim, yet somehow still feels…empty? This is the paradox of modern fulfillment. We’re constantly filling our inner and outer spaces—our minds, schedules, and even our moments of rest—with distractions and activities. And yet, many of us feel disconnected from our innermost selves, our loved ones, and even a deeper sense of purpose.

I’ve been guilty of this myself. Any slack moment in my day is quickly filled with something “worthy” like a podcast, an audiobook, or even scheduling my meditation and journaling. My gym time? Scheduled. My screen-free time with friends? Scheduled. Even moments of relaxation have a to-do list. While there’s value in structure, I’ve realized that this need to fill every gap is robbing me of something profound: the quiet, still spaces where creativity and self-connection thrive.

The Forces That Fill Us Up

From the time we’re children, we’re conditioned to keep busy. Kids are shuffled from soccer practice to tutoring to playdates, leaving little room for boredom. As adults, we replicate this same pattern—only now, it’s spreadsheets, workouts, and the constant buzz of notifications filling our days.

On the surface, staying busy feels productive, even virtuous. We’re told that “time is money” and that idle hands are the devil’s playground. But the truth is, when we’re endlessly filling every crevice of our lives, we risk disconnecting from what truly matters. It’s not just our inner selves that suffer—our relationships, creativity, and even our mental health take a hit.

In my own life, I’ve noticed how this over-programming leaves little space for spontaneity or introspection. Even when I carve out time for things like journaling or meditation, it’s still part of a checklist. This constant drive to do more is exhausting—and ultimately unfulfilling.

The Beauty of Boredom and Silence

When was the last time you allowed yourself to do…nothing? No phone, no music, no book—just you, sitting in silence. It sounds simple, but for many of us, it’s uncomfortable. Yet, this very discomfort holds the key to reconnecting with ourselves.

Some of my best ideas come to me in the shower. Why? Because it’s one of the few places where I’m not multitasking. There’s no email, no podcast, no external input—just me and the water. In that quiet space, my mind has the freedom to wander, to imagine, to solve problems.

The Tao Te Ching offers a beautiful metaphor for this. It teaches that a bowl’s value lies not in the clay that shapes it but in the empty space inside. Similarly, the value of our lives isn’t just in what we fill them with, but in the open spaces we leave for creativity, reflection, and connection.

Shifting from Doing More to Being Present

Our culture celebrates doing more. We measure success by productivity, achievements, and how “busy” we appear. But what if the right answer isn’t to do more—but to do less?

When we stop cramming our schedules full, we make room for something far more valuable: presence. Open spaces in our days allow us to notice the world around us, to truly listen during a conversation, and to connect with ourselves on a deeper level.

This shift doesn’t mean abandoning structure altogether. It’s about redefining how we approach our time. Instead of asking, “What else can I fit in?” we might ask, “What can I leave open?”

Practical Steps to Reclaim Your Space

If you’re ready to embrace quiet and reclaim your inner space, here are some simple, actionable steps:

Embrace Boredom : Schedule unstructured time in your day. Set aside 10–15 minutes to simply sit with your thoughts or let your mind wander. Resist the urge to fill it with your phone or a task.
Unplug with Intention : Create designated tech-free zones or periods. For example, make dinnertime or the first hour after waking up a screen-free time.
Take Mindful Walks : Spend time outdoors without your phone, music, or a podcast. Let yourself notice the sights, sounds, and sensations around you.
Practice Reflective Silence : Dedicate a few minutes each day to sit quietly and observe your thoughts without judgment. Meditation apps can help, but the goal is to simply be.
Leave Gaps in Your Schedule : Instead of booking every hour of your day, leave space for spontaneity. These open blocks can become opportunities to rest, reflect, or connect with loved ones.

Finding Fulfillment in the Spaces Between

There’s a certain irony in the way we define a “full” life. We often think it’s about how much we can pack into our days—how many tasks we complete, how many goals we achieve. But the truth is, life’s greatest value often lies in the spaces we leave open.

It’s in those quiet, unfilled moments that we can reconnect with ourselves, dream up our best ideas, and truly be with the people we love. By embracing the beauty of emptiness—the spaces between—we can move from being “filled but unfulfilled” to living lives that are both intentional and deeply satisfying.

So, the next time you find yourself reaching for your phone in a moment of stillness, pause. Let the quiet envelop you. In that silence, you just might rediscover the core of who you are.

Excellentism vs. Perfectionism: Embracing Growth Over Flawlessness

Tue, 21 Jan 2025 13:30:00 GMT

When I first came across the concept of “excellentism” in Future Tense: Why Anxiety is Good for You (Even Though it Feels Bad) by Tracy Dennis-Tiwary, it felt like a lightbulb moment. I had always been familiar with perfectionism—many of us are. But excellentism? The distinction struck a chord. It immediately resonated as a healthier, more sustainable alternative to the pitfalls of perfectionism, and it helped me better articulate the mindset I’ve been striving to embrace.

Perfectionism is something my parents told me I struggled with as a child. Back then, I couldn’t leave a project alone until every detail was polished. Today, though, I feel worlds away from that mindset. Maybe it’s because I found my way into the startup world, where “shipped is better than perfect” reigns as gospel. Or maybe my evolved approach to life naturally led me to startups. Either way, I no longer feel trapped by perfectionism, and excellentism has given me the vocabulary to explain why.

Excellentism, at its core, isn’t about settling for “good enough,” but about embracing the process of continual improvement. It’s the idea of “perfect” not as a fixed goal but as a verb—something active and ongoing. It’s an approach that aligns with the 80/20 principle of the Pareto Rule, where 80% of the results come from 20% of the effort. While I don’t believe in stopping at that 80%, I also recognize that chasing perfection is often more draining than productive.

Understanding Perfectionism

Perfectionism is the relentless pursuit of flawlessness, and it’s easy to fall into its trap. It’s the voice in your head that tells you nothing is good enough unless it’s perfect—a voice that often drives procrastination, burnout, and self-doubt.

Here’s the problem: perfectionism isn’t just about high standards; it’s often rooted in fear. Fear of failure. Fear of judgment. Fear of losing control. This mindset equates self-worth with achievements, and anything less than perfection can feel like a personal shortcoming.

As a child, I remember being consumed by this need to get everything “just right.” It was paralyzing at times, making it difficult to finish projects or even start them. As I grew, I realized the cost of this mindset. It wasn’t sustainable.

Enter Excellentism

Where perfectionism demands flawlessness, excellentism offers something more liberating: progress. Excellentism is about striving for excellence through ongoing effort and refinement, not by achieving an impossible ideal.

The key distinction is that perfectionism views “perfect” as a static and unattainable end state, while excellentism sees it as an active process—a verb, not a noun. It’s about continuous improvement and embracing growth rather than being paralyzed by the fear of imperfection.

In my book, Get Out of My Head, I wrote about rejecting “perfect” as an end state and instead focusing on the idea of progress. This philosophy aligns seamlessly with excellentism. It encourages us to do our best, learn from setbacks, and keep moving forward—without letting the pursuit of flawlessness hold us back.

Why Excellentism is Better

Excellentism isn’t just a softer alternative to perfectionism—it’s a more productive and fulfilling way to live and work. Here’s why:

It Encourages Growth
Excellentism emphasizes improvement over time. It celebrates the journey rather than fixating on an elusive finish line.
It Boosts Productivity
By prioritizing meaningful progress, excellentism aligns with the Pareto Principle, which suggests that 80% of the results come from 20% of the effort. It allows us to focus on high-impact work without getting bogged down by diminishing returns.
It Builds Resilience
Excellentism accepts that mistakes are part of the process. Instead of fearing failure, it encourages us to see setbacks as opportunities to learn and grow.
It Fosters Creativity
The freedom to experiment and iterate—hallmarks of excellentism—creates a fertile ground for innovation.

Perfectionism vs. Excellentism: A Comparison

Here’s a quick breakdown of how the two mindsets differ:

How to Embrace Excellentism

Whether you’re working to counter perfectionist tendencies or looking to up your game, here are some practical ways to incorporate excellentism into your life:

Reframe Your Goals
Shift your focus from flawless outcomes to consistent progress. Celebrate incremental improvements and milestones along the way.
Adopt the Pareto Principle
Identify the 20% of work that delivers 80% of the results. Start there and refine as needed rather than exhausting yourself on diminishing returns.
Practice Iterative Progress
Break larger projects into smaller, manageable steps. Treat each step as an opportunity to refine and improve.
Celebrate Small Wins
Acknowledge effort and progress rather than fixating solely on outcomes. This builds momentum and keeps you motivated.
Seek Feedback Early and Often
Don’t wait for perfection before sharing your work. Feedback helps refine your efforts and reinforces the value of collaboration.
Develop a Growth Mindset
Embrace challenges and view them as opportunities to learn. A growth mindset is the foundation of excellentism.
Redefine “Perfect”
Stop chasing an unattainable ideal. Instead, see “perfect” as a verb—a process of continual improvement.

Why This Matters

In today’s fast-paced world, perfectionism is fueled by social media, constant comparison, and unrealistic expectations. Excellentism offers a counterbalance—a way to aim high without losing yourself in the process. It’s not about settling; it’s about growing.

Reflecting on my own journey, I realize how far I’ve come from the child who agonized over perfection. Excellentism has helped me embrace the beauty of progress and the joy of striving for excellence without the weight of fear.

If you’ve struggled with perfectionism or feel stuck in a cycle of “good enough,” consider embracing excellentism. It’s not about lowering your standards but shifting your focus to growth and momentum. Excellence isn’t a destination; it’s a journey. And every step forward is worth celebrating.

When Good Intentions Go Wrong: Building Resilience in Our Children

Tue, 14 Jan 2025 13:30:00 GMT

Parenting is a delicate dance. It often begins with a desire to protect, to shield, to ensure the best for our children. Yet, as I reflect on two thought-provoking books I read over the holidays—The Coddling of the American Mind by Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt, and Future Tense: Why Anxiety is Good for You (Even Though it Feels Bad) by Tracy Dennis-Tiwary—I’m beginning to wonder if our good intentions might be getting in the way.

Both books make a compelling case for how shielding children from discomfort and stress, while coming from a place of love, can inadvertently stunt their growth. They argue that children are “antifragile,” a concept from Nassim Taleb that suggests humans don’t just endure stress but actually grow stronger through it. When we deny our children the chance to face challenges, we rob them of the critical developmental opportunities they need to thrive in the real world.

Overprotection vs. Preparedness

As a parent, it’s easy to fall into the trap of overprotection. After all, keeping our kids safe feels like the ultimate act of love. But The Coddling of the American Mind points out how this protective instinct can lead to unintended consequences. By cushioning children from all forms of adversity—whether that’s emotional discomfort or the sting of failure—we deny them the chance to build resilience.

Dennis-Tiwary’s Future Tense takes this further, emphasizing that anxiety, though unpleasant, plays an essential role in human development. It pushes us to problem-solve, adapt, and grow. Much like our immune systems need exposure to germs to build defenses, our minds need exposure to challenges to develop strength. Without it, we risk creating a generation unprepared for life’s inevitable difficulties.

The Impact of Denying Stressors

I think back to my own childhood—wide-open afternoons spent riding bikes with friends, exploring until the streetlights flickered on. My former father-in-law once told me about a two-week bike ride he and a friend took across the UK when they were just twelve. Compare that to today’s parenting culture, where some parents feel uneasy letting their kids play in the front yard unsupervised.

Even in my own parenting journey, I catch glimpses of how these shifts manifest. Recently, I asked my nearly nine-year-old daughter what responsibility she would most like to have. Her answer? She wanted to ride the school bus—a routine rite of passage not so long ago but now, for many parents, a source of hesitation. It’s a small but telling example of how much we’ve come to underestimate our children’s ability to handle the world on their own.

Why Stress is Good (in Moderation)

Research consistently shows that stress isn’t inherently bad. In fact, moderate levels of stress are critical for building emotional regulation, problem-solving skills, and adaptability. When kids face challenges—whether it’s learning to ride a bike, studying for a tough test, or navigating a social conflict—they’re not just surviving; they’re growing.

Taleb’s concept of antifragility underscores this beautifully. Resilience is often thought of as bouncing back from hardship, but antifragility goes a step further: it’s about becoming stronger because of it. When we remove all stressors, it’s like raising children in a sterile environment. Sure, they might avoid discomfort in the short term, but they also miss out on building the strength they’ll need for the long haul.

Striking the Balance

Of course, not all stress is helpful. Too much pressure—whether it’s academic, social, or emotional—can be harmful. The goal is to expose kids to challenges that are appropriate for their age and capacity. This might mean encouraging them to try out for a sports team, manage their homework independently, or solve minor disputes with friends on their own.

Both books stress the importance of reframing failure as a growth opportunity. When kids stumble, our instinct is often to jump in and fix the problem. But what if we paused instead? What if we let them wrestle with the issue, offering support only when needed? This approach teaches them that they’re capable of overcoming obstacles—a lesson far more valuable than immediate comfort.

Parenting in Action: Building Resilient Kids

So how can we, as parents, foster antifragility while still protecting our kids from unnecessary harm? Here are a few actionable steps:

Assign Responsibilities
Give children tasks that build independence. Whether it’s cooking a simple meal, walking the dog, or riding the school bus, these moments build confidence and capability.
Encourage Safe Risk-Taking
Let them climb the tree, try the challenging hobby, or explore the neighborhood. Supervise when necessary but resist the urge to hover.
Reframe Failure
When things don’t go as planned, guide them in reflecting on what they’ve learned. Celebrate the effort, not just the outcome.
Model Resilience
Kids watch us closely. Show them how you handle stress, setbacks, and uncertainty. Talk openly about challenges and how you’re working through them.

Reflecting on Generational Shifts

It’s hard not to notice how much parenting norms have shifted over the decades. My generation grew up in an era of exploration and self-reliance, while today’s children often live within carefully curated schedules and monitored environments. While there’s no going back entirely—and perhaps some aspects of modern parenting are improvements—it’s worth reflecting on what we might have lost along the way.

By fostering resilience and allowing kids to face controlled challenges, we’re not just preparing them for life beyond the bubble—we’re empowering them to thrive.

The Long-Term Vision

The world will challenge our children, whether we want it to or not. Our job isn’t to eliminate those challenges but to prepare our kids to meet them head-on. By introducing manageable stressors now, we help them grow into confident, capable adults who can navigate life’s ups and downs.

Parenting will always be a balancing act. But perhaps the best way to protect our children is to let go a little, trusting in their antifragility and knowing that the struggles of today are the foundation for their strength tomorrow.

Building Better -Ships: How Relationships Shape Our Lives, Health, and Longevity

Tue, 07 Jan 2025 13:30:00 GMT

What do friendship, leadership, and citizenship have in common? More than just ending with the same suffix, these "-ships" are essential states of being or relationships that profoundly define our lives and shape our well-being. These connections don’t just determine who we are but also how healthy and fulfilled we can be.

By exploring the roots of "-ship," the concept of healthspan, and the critical role of social connection, we can learn how to build stronger, healthier "-ships" that enrich our lives and even extend the years we spend in good health.

The Root of -Ship: A Historical and Holistic Perspective

The suffix "-ship" has deep roots in Old English and Proto-Germanic languages, originating from "scipe" and "skapiz" , which mean shape, condition, or role. Historically, "-ship" represented purposeful states of being, like fellowship or craftsmanship, emphasizing qualities of connection, skill, and belonging.

This historical foundation aligns beautifully with the modern concept of healthspan—the time in life we spend in good health. Our "-ships" don’t just shape our identities; they influence the quality of our lives, impacting both mental and physical well-being.

Healthspan and Its Five Pillars

Healthspan focuses on maintaining vitality and health, rather than simply extending lifespan. It’s defined by five key pillars:

Nutrition : Eating a balanced, nutrient-rich diet.
Physical Activity : Staying active to support strength and cardiovascular health.
Sleep : Prioritizing restorative sleep for recovery and mental clarity.
Stress Management : Cultivating resilience through mindfulness and relaxation.
Social Connection and Purpose : Fostering relationships and living for something beyond yourself.

The fifth pillar is where "-ships" take center stage. Strong relationships, friendships, and a sense of purpose contribute directly to physical and mental well-being, reducing stress, boosting happiness, and even adding years to our lives.

The Core -Ships That Define Our Lives and Health

Relationships

From family bonds to romantic partnerships, relationships form the bedrock of human experience. Quality relationships are proven to lower stress levels, provide emotional stability, and increase resilience in difficult times. They reflect the original essence of "-ship" as a purposeful state of connection.

Friendships

Friendships offer unique emotional support, shared joy, and a buffer against loneliness. They’re tied to increased happiness and reduced risk of mental health struggles, making them an essential part of a thriving healthspan.

Partnerships

Professional and collaborative partnerships help us grow, providing mutual support in achieving goals. Whether in business or creative endeavors, strong partnerships instill a sense of purpose and accomplishment.

Expanding the Fleet: Other Essential -Ships for Health and Longevity

Beyond relationships, friendships, and partnerships, other "-ships" play vital roles in our lives:

Mentorship : A two-way exchange of wisdom and support that fosters growth for both parties.
Leadership : Shaping yourself and others through intentional guidance.
Citizenship : Contributing to your community, fostering belonging and purpose.
Companionship : Finding comfort and stability through close bonds, including with pets.
Stewardship : Caring for the environment and leaving a legacy for future generations.

Each of these "-ships" aligns with the fifth pillar of healthspan, highlighting the importance of living for something beyond yourself.

The Health Benefits of Prioritizing -Ships

Nurturing "-ships" offers tangible benefits for physical and mental health:

Physical Health : Research shows that strong social bonds can reduce inflammation, improve cardiovascular health, and lower the risk of chronic diseases.
Mental Health : Social connections combat anxiety, depression, and loneliness, leading to a happier, more balanced life.
Longevity : Studies reveal that individuals with rich social networks live longer and enjoy a higher quality of life.

Building and Prioritizing Your -Ships to Enhance Healthspan

To improve your healthspan through "-ships," consider these steps:

Reflect Regularly : Take stock of your current "-ships" and identify areas for growth.
Invest Time and Energy : Be intentional about nurturing connections that matter.
Align with Purpose : Cultivate relationships and roles that align with your values and contribute to something bigger than yourself.
Set Boundaries and Embrace Change : Recognize when certain "-ships" need to evolve or end for your well-being.
Practice Citizenship and Stewardship : Engage with your community and protect shared resources, fostering collective health.

The "-ships" we choose to nurture—relationships, friendships, citizenship, and beyond—shape not only who we are but also how well and how long we live. Rooted in history and reinforced by science, these connections offer purpose, belonging, and health benefits that are impossible to ignore.

By prioritizing and strengthening your "-ships," you can create a life filled with meaning, joy, and vitality. The journey starts with a simple choice: invest in the connections that shape your world and let them transform your healthspan.

So, what are you waiting for? Start building better "-ships" today, and watch as they shape a healthier, happier you.

Favorite Reads of 2024

Tue, 31 Dec 2024 13:30:00 GMT

Books are time machines and thought companions, letting us step into the minds of great thinkers, storytellers, and dreamers from across the ages and around the world. In 2024, this has been truer than ever for me. Whether providing solace during challenging moments or sparking new ideas for the future, the books I’ve read this year have been constant sources of inspiration and learning.

This year’s reads spanned a variety of topics, from health and leadership to mythology and navigating life’s transitions. As 2024 comes to a close, I’m excited to share my favorite books from the past 12 months. Whether you're looking to build your reading list for 2025 or just seeking your next great book, I hope these recommendations resonate with you as they have with me.

Timeless Wisdom for Life and Leadership

Poor Charlie's Almanack: The Wit and Wisdom of Charles T. Munger by Charlie Munger

Finally reprinted after Munger’s passing, this book is brimming with wisdom. It’s a treasure trove I know I’ll revisit frequently—a master class in clear thinking and practical philosophy from one of the brightest minds of our time.

Right Thing, Right Now: Good Values. Good Character. Good Deeds. by Ryan Holiday

Is it any surprise a Ryan Holiday book made this list? As usual, it’s packed with actionable wisdom, but this one stands out even among his stellar works.

The Book of Life: Daily Meditations with Krishnamurti by J. Krishnamurti

Krishnamurti has become one of my most-cited thinkers this year. His insights are profound, challenging, and timeless.

Influence, New and Expanded: The Psychology of Persuasion by Robert B. Cialdini

A perennial favorite. As I launched Alively this year, rereading Cialdini’s principles of persuasion proved invaluable yet again. Truly a book worth revisiting.

The Tools: Transform Your Problems into Courage, Confidence, and Creativity by Phil Stutz

This year brought personal challenges, including a divorce. The Tools became indispensable for me, particularly the practices of love and gratitude, which I now use daily. Simple but transformative.

Leadership and Self-Deception: Getting Out of the Box by The Arbinger Institute

Also invaluable during my divorce, this book provided clarity and actionable insights for navigating relationships. Its lessons could prevent so much heartache if applied early.

Speak Like Churchill, Stand Like Lincoln: 21 Powerful Secrets of History's Greatest Speakers by James C. Humes

With another TEDx talk in Bermuda this year, I returned to this classic (and Chris Anderson’s TED Talks ). Both are invaluable resources for anyone looking to communicate more effectively.

Scaling People: Tactics for Management and Company Building by Claire Hughes Johnson

Super tactical and packed with practical advice. Even if you listen to it, I recommend keeping a hard copy for reference—it’s that good for anyone building or managing a team.

Health, Happiness, and Human Connection

The Good Life: Lessons from the World's Longest Study on Happiness by Robert Waldinger and Marc Schulz

This book reinforced the importance of relationships as a pillar of well-being. Its message is clear: we can never overinvest in meaningful connections.

Good Energy: The Surprising Connection Between Metabolism and Limitless Health by Casey Means

A rallying cry for taking control of our health. As a Levels user and advocate for healthspan over lifespan, this book hit home. Let’s Make America Healthy Again (MAHA)!

How Not to Age: The Scientific Approach to Getting Healthier as You Get Older by Michael Greger

Dr. Greger’s How Not to Die changed my life in 2021, and How Not to Age built on that foundation. It’s a must-read for anyone serious about health and longevity.

The Longevity Imperative by Andrew J. Scott

A thought-provoking look at how society must adapt to longer lives.

Navigating Family and Modern Life

This Is So Awkward: Modern Puberty Explained by Cara Natterson and Good Inside: A Guide to Becoming the Parent You Want to Be by Becky Kennedy

Though my daughter is only eight, This Is So Awkward has already helped me better understand and support her as she grows. It reminded me that it’s never too early to prepare for the transitions ahead. Pairing this with Dr. Becky’s Good Inside—which had me hooked after hearing her on the Huberman Lab podcast—has completely transformed how I see my daughter, her moods, and her words. These books have not only shifted my perspective but also made me a better, more thoughtful parent.

The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt

A deep dive into the mental health challenges facing today’s youth, offering sobering insights for parents and educators. I am worried too many parents will focus only on one part of the message: more screen police, and less on the (for me) more important message-we need LESS policing and should let the kids go out, explore, and fail on their own.

Love Life: How to Raise Your Standards, Find Your Person, and Live Happily (No Matter What) by Matthew Hussey

Entering the dating world after 19 years was daunting, but this book offered practical, empathetic guidance.

You'll Grow Out of It by Jessi Klein

I laughed until I cried—multiple times. Klein’s wit and sharp observations make this an absolute joy to read or listen to.

The Tale of Despereaux: Being the Story of a Mouse, a Princess, Some Soup and a Spool of Thread by Kate DiCamillo

I read this enchanting tale twice this year—once on a podcast recommendation and again with my daughter. It’s a timeless story we both adored.

Epic Adventures and Profound Stories

The Red Rising Trilogy by Pierce Brown

For fans of epic, multi-generational novels like Game of Thrones, this series is a thrill. Set in a dystopian future, it’s a study of human nature’s constants, no matter the era or setting.

D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths by Ingri d'Aulaire

Sharing this childhood favorite with my daughter was pure joy. It ignited her love for Greek mythology and made for wonderful bonding moments as we explored the stories together.

The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank

This was my "Roots" of 2024—a book I’d inexplicably never read before. Anne’s reflections are hauntingly beautiful and universally relatable, and her insights on antisemitism remain as relevant as ever.

Death in the Air: A Novel by Ram Murali

Suspenseful, clever, and packed with Taylor Swift references—what’s not to love?

As I look back on 2024, the books I’ve read stand out not just as words on a page but as conversations that have shaped my thoughts, decisions, and even my relationships. Each one has added something unique to my year—whether it was a spark of laughter, a dose of wisdom, or a much-needed shift in perspective.

As we step into 2025, I’m excited to keep discovering new voices and revisiting timeless ones, always on the hunt for insights that challenge and inspire. If a book changed your life or stayed with you this year, please share it with me—I can’t wait to add it to my ever-growing list. Here’s to another year of growth, discovery, and unforgettable stories.

The Next Needed Thing

Tue, 24 Dec 2024 13:30:00 GMT

Throughout history, humans have grappled with the tension between what they can control and what lies beyond their grasp. In ancient times, events like storms, plagues, and wars were often attributed to the whims of gods or the decrees of fate. This worldview shaped human lives profoundly, leaving little room for the concept of personal agency. Fast forward to today, and humanity exerts unprecedented control over our environment and societies. Yet paradoxically, feelings of powerlessness persist—and may even be growing. Understanding this paradox requires a journey from ancient beliefs to modern freedoms and a reflection on how we perceive our own agency.

The Ancient Lens of Fate

In the world of Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, life was a theater where gods and fate pulled the strings. Warriors like Achilles and Odysseus might possess strength and cunning, but their destinies were shaped by divine forces. Athena could tip the scales in favor of Odysseus, while Zeus could rain destruction—or mercy—on mortals below. These stories reflected a deep cultural belief: human lives were subject to forces far beyond their understanding or control.

Religious traditions reinforced this worldview. In Christianity, the Lord’s Prayer includes the phrase, "Thy will be done," signaling submission to divine authority. In Islam, the phrase Inshallah ("if God wills it") acknowledges that human plans are always subordinate to God's will. Across cultures, humanity accepted a fundamental truth: life’s outcomes often depended on powers far greater than ourselves.

This worldview made sense in a pre-scientific age when earthquakes, diseases, and weather patterns were mysteries. Without knowledge of tectonic plates or microbial life, such events felt arbitrary, even malicious. Humanity saw itself as at the mercy of elements it could neither predict nor control.

The Modern Era: Agency in Action

Today, our reality is vastly different. Technological and scientific advancements have granted humanity a level of control that would have been unthinkable to our ancestors. We engineer year-round food supplies, live in climate-controlled homes, and understand the mechanisms behind natural disasters. Life expectancy has soared, and diseases that once ravaged populations are now curable or preventable.

Political freedoms have also expanded. The spread of democracy has allowed billions of people to have a say in their governance, a stark contrast to the absolute monarchies or tribal systems of the past. Decisions that once rested with kings or chiefs are now made by elected representatives, influenced by public opinion.

Yet, despite these advancements, a growing number of people feel powerless. A 2018 Pew Research Center study found that significant portions of the population in democratic countries felt disconnected from political influence. Other studies indicate rising levels of anxiety and despair, suggesting that increased freedom and agency do not always translate to feelings of empowerment.

The Paradox of Progress

This dissonance—the gap between our increasing agency and our perceived powerlessness—mirrors a historical pattern: revolutionary movements often erupt not when oppression is at its peak, but when freedoms are expanding. Consider the French Revolution. Though the monarchy was gradually modernizing, these changes only heightened awareness of the inequalities that remained, spurring demands for more radical transformation.

The collapse of the USSR offers another compelling example. By the 1980s, Soviet citizens were experiencing the loosening of strict controls under Mikhail Gorbachev’s policies of glasnost (openness) and perestroika (restructuring). These reforms exposed systemic corruption and inefficiencies while increasing expectations for personal freedoms. Rather than stabilizing the Soviet system, they led to its unraveling as citizens demanded even more change.

This phenomenon is not unique to politics. Psychologist Robert Cialdini’s research on motivation sheds light on why incremental progress can sometimes feel frustrating rather than satisfying. In studies involving loyalty cards, participants who were closer to earning a reward (e.g., a free coffee) were more motivated than those at the start of the journey. When change is within reach, the remaining gap becomes all the more glaring. Similarly, as societies or individuals gain agency, they may fixate on what they still lack rather than celebrating how far they’ve come.

Harnessing Modern Agency

How, then, can we reconcile this paradox and embrace our hidden agency? One answer lies in shifting our perspective. Instead of dwelling solely on the gaps between where we are and where we want to be, we should also reflect on the progress we’ve made.

Margaret Mead famously said, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." Her words remind us of the transformative power of focused action. Sharon McMahon’s The Small and the Mighty builds on this idea, chronicling stories of individuals and small groups who shaped history through courage and determination. Whether it’s 15-year-old Claudette Colvin’s defiance or grassroots environmental activism, these examples demonstrate that even modest actions can create ripple effects of change.

On a personal level, recognizing our wins—big or small—can fuel a sense of agency. Did you make a healthier food choice today? Did you have a meaningful conversation that strengthened a relationship? These moments, though seemingly insignificant, add up. They are reminders that we wield far more control over our lives than we often credit ourselves with.

The ancients saw themselves as subjects of fate, their lives dictated by gods or destiny. Today, we understand the mechanisms behind much of what once seemed mysterious. Yet, even as we gain control over our environment and societies, feelings of powerlessness persist, driven by our focus on what remains undone.

The solution may lie in balancing our perspective. We must acknowledge the gaps and strive to close them, but also celebrate the agency we already possess. By doing so, we can harness our collective and individual power to shape the world—and our lives—for the better.

So yes, there are things outside our control. But also, yes, we have greater agency than ever before. If we see things that need doing, WE have the ability to step up and do the next needed thing.

Let’s do this.

The Gift of Limited Time: A Guide to Living Deliberately

Tue, 17 Dec 2024 13:30:00 GMT

It’s easy to feel like time stretches out infinitely before us. We fill our days with to-dos, distractions, and routines, often assuming there will always be “later” for the things that truly matter. But what if we saw time differently—not as an endless resource, but as the limited gift it is? Scarcity sharpens focus, forcing us to prioritize and be intentional. Instead of lamenting limited time, we can use it as a powerful tool to live deliberately and authentically.

The Forcing Mechanism of Limited Time

Have you ever noticed how much you get done during a busy day compared to a free one? There’s a reason for that. When time is scarce, we naturally focus on what’s most important and let the rest fall away.

Take Division I athletes, for example. Studies show that they often achieve better grades during their sports season than during the off-season when they have more “free” time. It seems counterintuitive—shouldn’t less time for studying lead to lower grades? But this paradox highlights the power of limited time: it forces efficiency. With only so many hours to juggle practices, games, and academics, athletes zero in on the essentials and waste less time on distractions.

The same dynamic plays out in our everyday lives. At work, we might spend hours mindlessly sifting through an inbox instead of carving out time for meaningful, creative work. At home, it’s easy to lose hours scrolling social media or bingeing a show when we could be laughing through a board game with loved ones. When we’re aware of how little time we have, we make better choices about how to spend it.

The Danger of Perceived Abundance

On the flip side, when we think we have “all the time in the world,” we tend to squander it. It’s like sitting at a buffet with endless options: we overindulge, sampling things we don’t really care about, rather than savoring the best bites.

This is especially true with tasks that have no hard deadlines. Work expands to fill the time we allow it. A project that could take three focused hours might drag on for days simply because we don’t feel the pressure to finish it. Similarly, in relationships, we often put off meaningful moments because we assume there will be time to connect later.

The truth is, abundance dulls our sense of value. When time feels infinite, we fail to treasure each moment. It’s only when we’re faced with scarcity—an impending deadline, a packed schedule, or a sobering reminder of life’s finitude—that we truly appreciate the importance of making time count.

The Reality: Time is Always Limited

Here’s the kicker: time is always limited. We just don’t always acknowledge it.

Whether we live 90 years or 19, our days are numbered. No one knows their exact count, but we know it’s finite. Given that, why would we spend any of our precious time on things that don’t matter to us?

That doesn’t mean we have to focus solely on serious pursuits like work or self-improvement. What matters is that we prioritize what’s valuable to us personally—whether that’s crafting a perfect presentation, having a tickle fight with our kids, or raking leaves only to jump into the pile and start over.

Life’s richness lies in those meaningful moments, whatever they may look like for you. The key is to deliberately make time for them, even if it means excluding less important activities. When you remember that your time is a gift, it becomes easier to choose the things that bring joy, connection, and purpose over passive or meaningless habits.

How to Focus on the Essential

Understanding the value of limited time is one thing; living by it is another. Here are a few strategies to help prioritize what truly matters:

Daily Reminder: Time is Precious - Every day, remind yourself that we all get 24 hours, and none of us knows how many days we have left. This isn’t about inducing fear; it’s about encouraging intentionality. Imagine each day as a piece of currency—how will you spend it?
Ask the Right Questions - When planning your day, ask yourself:
What truly matters to me?
Am I spending my time in ways that reflect those priorities?
If this were my last week, how would I want to spend it?
Embrace the Power of Exclusion - Not everything deserves your time. Say no to low-value activities, whether that’s an unproductive meeting or an endless social media scroll. The space you free up can be reinvested in what matters most.
Be Present in the Moment - It’s not enough to allocate time for something meaningful—you have to show up fully. Whether you’re at work or playing with your kids, give that moment your undivided attention.
Balance the Serious and the Playful - Prioritization doesn’t mean every moment has to be solemn or productive. It’s about choosing what’s valuable to you. For some, that might mean learning a new skill. For others, it could mean goofy, joyful moments with loved ones.

Living Deliberately

Ultimately, the forcing mechanism of limited time is always with us, even if we don’t recognize it. It’s not a restriction—it’s a gift. Scarcity reminds us to focus on what matters, to cut through distractions, and to live deliberately.

Imagine the kind of life you’d want to reflect on at the end of your days. Would it be full of meaningful work, deep relationships, and playful moments? Or would it be a blur of wasted hours and missed opportunities?

We all get the same 24 hours in a day, and though we don’t know the total number of days we’ll have, we do know this: each one counts. So let’s make sure we’re spending our time on the things that truly matter—whatever those things are to us.

As the saying goes, life isn’t about counting the days; it’s about making the days count. Let’s choose to live fully and deliberately, starting now.

Quick Wit: A Closer Look at Speed vs. Depth

Tue, 10 Dec 2024 13:30:01 GMT

Quick wit has always been admired in our society. There’s something captivating about a person who can think on their feet, deliver a sharp response, or distill complex ideas into a snappy one-liner. It feels like magic—a sign of intelligence and sharpness that we instinctively value. But as I get older, I’ve started to question: Is quick wit really as clever as we think, or does it sometimes come at the expense of deeper, more meaningful insights?

The Allure of Quick Wit

We live in a culture that prizes speed. Whether it’s fast food, instant messaging, or breaking news, we’ve grown accustomed to valuing immediacy. Quick wit fits neatly into this narrative. It’s not just about being funny or clever; it’s seen as evidence of a sharp mind—someone who’s "on it."

In many professional settings, speed often trumps quality. I experienced this firsthand when I worked on write-ups for industry events. The unspoken rule was clear: the faster the analysis could go live, the better. Reflecting on it now, I realize the race to publish within 24 hours often left the content half-baked. Sure, the pieces were timely, but they lacked the depth they could have had if I’d taken more time to refine them. The speed of delivery was seen as more valuable than the quality of the work itself.

And therein lies the problem: we equate speed with competence. But does that assumption hold up under scrutiny?

The Case for Marination

As I get older, I’ve noticed something interesting. My best ideas rarely come quickly. Instead, they emerge after a period of marination—letting thoughts simmer and evolve over time. It’s not that my mind has slowed down; if anything, I’d argue that I’ve become more thoughtful, valuing the process of arriving at the right answer over the fastest one.

This shift in perspective mirrors some of the things we’re learning about artificial intelligence. Large language models (LLMs) like GPT, for example, can generate impressive answers in seconds. But studies show that when given more time to process and refine, these models produce even better, more accurate, and more nuanced results. The parallels to human thought are striking: speed is impressive, but patience and deliberation can elevate the outcome.

So, what does this say about wit? Perhaps the sharpest minds aren’t those that think quickly but those that think deeply.

The Cost of Prioritizing Speed

There’s a cost to prioritizing quickness over quality. When we focus solely on speed, we risk sacrificing nuance, creativity, and thoughtfulness. In the context of my industry write-ups, this often meant publishing work that was serviceable but uninspired. The content did its job, but I knew it wasn’t as good as it could have been. And that nagging dissatisfaction stayed with me.

This isn't just about work; it’s a broader reflection of how we approach life. In our rush to respond, decide, or deliver, how often do we miss out on the chance to create something truly meaningful? Are we trading substance for superficial wins?

When I look at it this way, I can’t help but question how witty the “quick” really is. Is it worth the trade-off if it comes at the cost of depth and thoughtfulness?

Striking a Balance: Questions to Ask Yourself

The tension between speed and quality isn’t always easy to navigate. But there are ways to approach this dilemma thoughtfully. Here are a few questions I’ve started asking myself:

What’s the purpose of the task? If you’re writing breaking news or making a split-second decision, speed might genuinely matter. But if you’re crafting something meant to last—like a strategy, a story, or a piece of art—can you afford to take more time?
Will a delay significantly improve the quality? Some tasks improve dramatically with a little extra time. If a 24-hour delay could turn a “good” result into a “great” one, it’s worth considering.
What will this choice cost you? Think about both the tangible and intangible costs. Is sacrificing quality for speed going to affect how you feel about the outcome? Will it compromise your values or standards?
How does this affect others? If you’re part of a team, rushing might mean handing off work that creates more stress downstream. Conversely, slowing down might help ensure everyone benefits from a stronger final result.

By weighing these factors, we can better navigate the trade-offs between quickness and thoughtfulness. The key isn’t to always prioritize one over the other but to understand when each approach serves us best.

A Better Definition of Wit

Perhaps we need to redefine what we mean by “quick wit.” Instead of equating it solely with speed, let’s consider it a form of agility—a capacity to adapt, process, and respond thoughtfully, whether in seconds or over days. After all, wit isn’t just about timing; it’s about depth, insight, and resonance.

This reframing allows us to move beyond the binary choice of “fast or slow” and appreciate the nuance of thoughtful cleverness. In a world that often values speed above all else, choosing depth can be a radical, even rebellious act.

All to say, quick wit has its place—it can dazzle, entertain, and impress. But as I’ve learned, it’s not the only measure of intelligence or creativity. Some of the best ideas, whether from humans or AI, come with time, patience, and reflection.

So, the next time you’re tempted to prioritize speed, ask yourself: Is this about being quick, or is it about being effective? Sometimes the cleverest thing you can do is take a moment to think.

Authenticity or Avoidance? When “Being Myself” Becomes an Excuse to Avoid Growth

Tue, 03 Dec 2024 13:30:00 GMT

In today’s world, “authenticity” has become a buzzword. We’re encouraged to “be ourselves” and “live our truth.” And while that sounds great, sometimes “authenticity” is just an excuse to be, well, a bit of a jerk. Throughout my career, I’ve seen people excuse abrasive behavior with phrases like, “I’m just a straight shooter,” or “That’s just who I am.” What they’re essentially saying is, “I’m authentically rude, and I’m not interested in changing.”

While honesty is important, we have to remember that being “honest” or “real” shouldn’t come at the expense of kindness. As Taylor Swift famously pointed out, we shouldn’t be “casually cruel in the name of being honest.” There’s a difference between true authenticity and using authenticity as a way to avoid the tough work of self-improvement. If we’re serious about being our true selves, then we owe it to others—and ourselves—to examine the impact of our words and actions. Are we trying to help, or just to let off steam?

The Thin Line Between Being Authentic and Being Rude

Authenticity, when done right, is a great quality. It means expressing ourselves honestly, openly, and without pretense. But authenticity can be twisted into a shield that protects us from self-reflection. When we say things like 'That’s just how I am,' we close ourselves off from seeing how we might be hurting others and hold ourselves back from becoming a better version of who we could be.

Being an “authentic person” doesn’t mean being abrasive, insensitive, or unfiltered. When people dismiss concerns about their behavior by saying they’re “just being real,” they often avoid looking at how that behavior might affect others. Authenticity shouldn’t be about letting ourselves off the hook for acting thoughtlessly.

To Help or to Vent?

When it comes to honesty, we should all take a moment to think about why we’re saying what we’re saying. Are we being honest to inspire change? Are we trying to help someone or provide insight? Or are we just releasing our own frustrations, perhaps at someone else’s expense?

I’ve found that a lot of “honesty” people dole out is less about helping others and more about venting. This isn’t a criticism; we all do it from time to time. But when we use “honesty” as an outlet for our own frustration, it rarely has the effect we’re hoping for. People tend to get defensive when they feel attacked or belittled, even if the intention was simply “telling it like it is.”

Before speaking, it’s worth asking: Is what I’m about to say constructive? Has it ever helped create the outcome I wanted? Or does it usually lead to hurt feelings, defensiveness, or misunderstandings? At its core, true honesty is meant to build bridges, not burn them. And yes, that may take some finesse and tact. But if the goal is to be both authentic and helpful, it’s worth the extra effort.

When “Being Real” Isn’t Enough

Being authentic is important, but so is self-awareness. People are not static; we all have areas where we can grow and improve. Self-awareness means being open to change, especially if we notice that our “authentic self” is creating tension or negative outcomes in our relationships.

It’s helpful to remember that being kind and being true to ourselves are not opposites—they’re actually very compatible. When we consider how our “straight talk” might impact someone else, we’re not compromising authenticity; we’re aligning it with a purpose. Being more thoughtful doesn’t mean we’re less honest; it means we’re more effective in delivering our truth. Think of it as evolving your authenticity to be a little gentler and a lot more intentional.

Honey, Not Vinegar

There’s an old saying: “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” Yes, it’s a cliché, but like a lot of things our moms taught us, it also happens to be true. Being straightforward and honest doesn’t have to mean being harsh or confrontational. Thoughtful honesty can be both clear and kind, fostering stronger relationships and making it more likely that people will listen.

The trick is to focus on constructive feedback—keep your words centered on the behavior or issue rather than the person. Show empathy. Ask yourself, “If someone were saying this to me, how would I want to hear it?” These small changes don’t dilute the truth; they just make it more palatable and productive. This approach allows us to maintain our values and integrity while also making a positive impact on others.

This approach is nothing new. Stoics like Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus practiced virtues that balanced truth with compassion, valuing honesty while recognizing the importance of empathy and respect in every interaction. If a Roman Emperor could prioritize this, surely we can too.

Practical Tips for Practicing Self-Aware Authenticity

Here are a few ways to practice honest, authentic self-expression while remaining open to growth:

Pause and Reflect: Before speaking, consider whether your words are aimed at helping or simply venting. A quick pause can save a lot of pain.
Use “I” Statements: Frame your opinions as personal perspectives rather than universal truths. This small change keeps the conversation open rather than shutting it down.
Set Intentions: Make sure that your honesty has a positive purpose, whether it’s to provide constructive feedback, share insight, or offer support.
Seek Feedback: Authenticity doesn’t mean we’re always right. Be open to how others perceive your honesty and be willing to adjust if necessary to be both true to yourself and considerate.

A Tool for Connection, Not a Weapon

Being true to ourselves is important, but we also have a responsibility to consider how our words and actions impact others. Authenticity isn’t about refusing to change; it’s about being honest enough with ourselves to acknowledge areas for improvement. When we balance honesty with kindness, we become the best version of ourselves—not just for our own benefit but for the benefit of those around us.

So, go ahead—be authentic. Be honest. But let your authenticity reflect growth, kindness, and a genuine intention to connect. That’s the kind of “authentic self” that truly inspires and empowers others.

Gratitude: A Transformative Approach to Positivity

Tue, 26 Nov 2024 13:30:00 GMT

Gratitude practices have been all the rage lately—and for good reason. Studies show that cultivating gratitude can have profound effects on mental health, emotional well-being, and even physical health. Whether it’s a written list, a moment of reflection, or a heartfelt expression of thanks, gratitude shifts our mindset from what we lack to what we have. But after years of trying various gratitude techniques, I’ve landed on a new practice that has been more impactful for me than anything else.

The Benefits of a Gratitude Practice

Research on gratitude continues to back up what many people have long known—taking time to be grateful can improve both mental and physical well-being. Studies from the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley have shown that regularly practicing gratitude leads to significant increases in happiness and life satisfaction. In fact, a 2015 study found that people who wrote about gratitude were more optimistic and felt better about their lives.

Gratitude practices also improve physical health. Those who take time to reflect on what they’re grateful for report fewer physical ailments, better sleep, and even lower blood pressure. It seems the simple act of focusing on positive aspects of life can drastically change how we feel, both mentally and physically.

When Is the Best Time to Practice Gratitude—Morning or Night?

A common question I’ve explored over the years is whether it’s more effective to practice gratitude in the morning, to set the tone for the day, or at night, as a way of debriefing before bed. Research supports the benefits of both.

Practicing gratitude in the morning can prime your mind for optimism, helping you approach the day with a positive mindset. Starting your day with gratitude has been shown to reduce stress and boost resilience.

On the flip side, gratitude at night allows you to reflect on your day and reframe any challenges with a more positive perspective. A 2011 study found that people who wrote gratitude lists before bed reported better sleep and woke up feeling more refreshed.

For me, both morning and night practices have their advantages. I’ve tried both approaches over the years, and while both are beneficial, my current practice leans heavily toward the morning to kickstart my day.

Verbal, Mental, or Written Gratitude: Which Is Best?

Another question I’ve explored is the how of practicing gratitude. Should you say it aloud, think it silently, or write it down? The answer depends on your personality and preferences.

Verbal expressions of gratitude, whether thanking someone in person or speaking to yourself, have the added benefit of strengthening relationships and building connections. Research from the Journal of Positive Psychology found that receiving or witnessing expressions of gratitude can improve mood and emotional well-being.
Mental gratitude, where you silently reflect on things you’re thankful for, can be powerful in shifting your mindset. This quiet introspection helps to reshape your internal dialogue.
Written gratitude tends to be the most effective. Writing forces you to articulate and organize your thoughts, making the practice more concrete. Robert Emmons, one of the world’s leading gratitude researchers, found that those who keep gratitude journals experience long-lasting improvements in well-being, with some reporting a 10% increase in happiness.

My Journey Through Various Gratitude Practices

Over the years, I’ve experimented with each of these methods. I’ve done gratitude journaling at night, mental reflections in the morning, and verbal expressions whenever I felt compelled to thank someone. They all had positive impacts, but over time, I found that some practices became routine and less impactful. I needed something new to keep the benefits fresh and meaningful.

That’s when I discovered a new method from Phil Stutz’s The Tools, and it has become my favorite—and most effective—gratitude practice yet.

Here’s how my new practice works: every morning, I start my meditation with five minutes of focused gratitude. In those five minutes, I think of five new things to be grateful for—one for each minute. The key is that these things must be new. Once I’ve expressed gratitude for something, I can’t repeat it. This forces me to focus deeply and think carefully about what I’m grateful for.

Why This Practice Stands Out

This approach has made a huge difference in my life. The deep focus required ensures that I’m truly engaging with the gratitude I’m expressing. I’m not just going through the motions. The rule of never repeating the same thing twice means I can’t fall into the trap of routine or surface-level gratitude. Each morning, I have to dig deeper.

Another powerful aspect of this practice is that in having to find five new things every day, it effectively means that they all come from the previous day. This essentially rewrites my memory of the day before. No matter what might have gone wrong, I sit for five minutes each morning and focus solely on the best moments from the day. As a result, my memory of life is increasingly positive—every day becomes a great day when I look back.

Because I know I’ll need to find five things to be grateful for each morning, this practice has shifted how I experience my day. I’m constantly on the lookout for things to appreciate—whether it’s a meaningful conversation with a friend, a beautiful sunset, or the simple joy of playing silly games with my daughter during school lunch.

This heightened awareness of life’s positive moments keeps me grounded in the present, focusing on what’s good rather than what could go wrong. It’s been transformative. I’m not just rewriting my memories to be more positive; I’m living each day more fully and with more joy.

What’s Next

While I’ve found this new method to be the most impactful gratitude practice for me, I believe that any form of gratitude can be transformative. Whether you try my approach or explore your own, the benefits of gratitude are undeniable.

At Alively , we believe in the power of gratitude, which is why we incorporate it into what we offer, including through our partnership with Soul . Gratitude has the power to change lives, and I encourage everyone to explore how they can bring more of it into their daily routines.

So, as I wrap up, I have to ask: What are you grateful for today?

Developing Empathy for Your Younger Self: A Journey Through Time and Understanding

Tue, 19 Nov 2024 13:30:01 GMT

"Nothing is more unfair than to judge of the sentiments of one age by the improved moral perceptions of another." – Denys Arthur Winstanley

We’ve all heard how unfair it is to judge historical figures by modern standards. The same goes for judging our younger selves. The wisdom we gain over time should not be used as a weapon to critique the person we once were. It’s a lesson I’ve had to remind myself of repeatedly, especially when reflecting on the teenage version of me—someone who the current version of myself might not even be close friends with today.

There was a time when I saw that thought as a judgment on my younger self, an indictment of the choices I made and the person I was. But over the years, I’ve come to view it differently. Now, I see it as a testament to my personal development—a sign of just how far I’ve come. The person I am today wouldn’t exist without the mistakes, confusion, and growth of my younger years.

The Importance of Context and Growth

It’s easy to look back on our past with a critical eye. We think, “I should have known better” or “How could I have acted that way?” But the reality is that the younger versions of ourselves didn’t have the life experience, knowledge, or wisdom we now possess. We didn’t have the full context that today’s perspective offers.

In the same way, you can’t have your 40th birthday without first having your 39th. Life is a series of steps, and each age comes with its own set of lessons. Judging your teenage self by the standards of your adult self is as unfair as judging someone from a different time by today’s moral codes.

Each stage of life is essential in its own right, and our mistakes, missteps, and even the naiveté of our youth were part of the learning process. Without those experiences, we wouldn’t have the wisdom we now possess. The person we were then was doing the best they could with the knowledge and circumstances they had at the time.

The Teenage You vs. The Present You

I often reflect on how different my teenage self was from who I am today. I was brash, impulsive, and thought I knew it all. In many ways, the adult me would find the teenage me frustrating, maybe even intolerable. But rather than seeing this as a condemnation of who I was, I now view it as a celebration of growth.

Back then, I was working through the challenges of adolescence with limited tools. I didn’t have the benefit of hindsight or years of experience. If I hadn’t made the mistakes I did, I wouldn’t have learned the lessons that shaped me into the person I am today.

It’s easy to say, “I wouldn’t be friends with my teenage self,” but I now understand that it’s not about rejecting who I was. It’s about acknowledging how far I’ve come. The gap between the teenage version of myself and the present version isn’t a failure on my part—it’s a reflection of personal development.

Empathy for Your Past Self: Why It’s Necessary

One of the most powerful lessons I’ve learned is the importance of showing empathy to my younger self. Just as I wouldn’t judge a friend harshly for mistakes they made when they were younger, I’ve realized I shouldn’t hold myself to today’s standards when reflecting on my past.

The decisions I made, the paths I took, and even the things I regret now all made sense with the limited information I had at the time. My younger self wasn’t foolish or wrong—they were simply learning. And just like we extend understanding to others, we need to show that same compassion to ourselves.

It’s easy to be hard on ourselves when we reflect on our past. But it’s crucial to remember that personal growth takes time. We wouldn’t be who we are today if we hadn’t been who we were back then.

Parenting and Empathy: Lessons From Talulla

This understanding has also shaped how I parent my daughter, Talulla. She’s incredibly wise for her age—so observant, so insightful—that I sometimes forget she’s still a child. I find myself setting expectations that are far beyond what’s fair for an 8-year-old. After all, how many kids want to hear about the hedonic treadmill during a Monday morning drive to school?

But spending time with her friends during lunch duty at school has been eye-opening. When I dive into play with them, I’m reminded of just how young they all are. Yes, they’re wise in many ways, but they’re also complete babies in others. Talulla, for all her maturity, is still learning, still growing, still figuring out how the world works (and so am I to be fair!).

This doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with her being a kid in some areas while displaying deep wisdom in others. It’s simply part of her development. I’ve realized that just because she impresses me with her insight doesn’t mean I should hold her to an unrealistic standard in all areas.

Striking the Balance: Recognizing Growth Without Judgment

The key to all of this is adaptability. It’s important to recognize the ways we’ve grown and the wisdom we’ve gained, but without using that as a yardstick to harshly judge our past selves. Yes, we’ve learned more, and yes, we might make different decisions today, but that’s the point. Growth is about learning and evolving.

The lesson I’ve learned is that we shouldn’t judge at all. Instead, we should seek to understand—to appreciate the journey we’ve been on and the ways we’ve grown. This shift in perspective has allowed me to stop being so hard on myself and to appreciate how far I’ve come.

It’s taken me a long time to learn this lesson, but it’s been a transformative one. Developing empathy for your younger self is not just an act of kindness—it’s a recognition of the growth and wisdom you’ve gained along the way. Every past version of ourselves contributed to the person we are today, and that’s something worth celebrating.

So, let’s extend that same empathy to ourselves and others. Life is a journey of growth, and we’re all doing the best we can with what we know at the time. Instead of judgment, let’s choose understanding.

Striving for Progress, Not Perfection: A High Achiever’s Guide to Health and Happiness

Tue, 12 Nov 2024 13:30:00 GMT

If you’re reading this, chances are you’re a high achiever—a person who sets lofty goals and then goes after them full force. Maybe you’re just like my friend, who recently decided to prioritize her health with a new vigor. She’s been meeting regularly with her functional medicine doctor, who has mapped out several changes for her to improve her health and extend her healthspan: dietary adjustments, a more consistent exercise routine, improved sleep habits, even shifts in self-talk. But here’s the challenge she’s facing now—not with the changes themselves, but with how she evaluates them.

With every step she takes, she finds herself measuring each action against an ideal standard. Every choice, no matter how well-intentioned, feels like it falls short of “perfect,” and for a high achiever, “just okay” isn’t good enough. Yet as we discussed, comparing her actions to an unattainable standard isn’t helping her journey. In fact, it’s making her feel discouraged, as though nothing is good enough. This mentality is one that many of us can relate to: the habit of comparing our choices not to the realistic alternatives we would have otherwise chosen but instead to some unachievable, ideal outcome.

The answer to this mindset trap is surprisingly simple but transformative: to stop measuring ourselves against perfection and start celebrating progress.

The Perfectionist Trap: Why “Perfect” Holds Us Back

It’s common for high achievers to fall into what I call the “Perfectionist Trap,” where the ideal constantly undermines progress. For my friend, the health changes her doctor recommended are helpful, challenging, and realistic, but because she’s comparing each small step to an imagined perfect scenario, she ends up feeling like she’s failing. High achievers often find themselves in one of two situations:

Giving up entirely, because if perfection isn’t possible, then what’s the point?
Improving incrementally but still feeling worse about the effort than before because it doesn’t meet the imagined “perfect” standard.

This isn’t just frustrating; it’s detrimental to both mental and physical health. These reactions mean that either we’re not doing anything and miss out on potential benefits, or we’re doing quite a bit but still feeling as if we’re falling short.

The mental strain of perfectionism is directly connected to physical health. Research shows that our minds and bodies are interconnected in ways that amplify each other—stress or negativity around our actions can negate many of the physical benefits. So, in the case of health improvements, doing something imperfectly is still so much better than doing nothing, and beating ourselves up in the process robs us of some of the benefits.

90% of the Gains Come from 10% of the Effort

Here’s the thing: we often think the ideal path offers nearly all the benefits, but research reveals something radically different. It’s actually the first few steps—the “10% efforts”—that give us around 90% of the benefits. This “90/10 principle” is an eye-opener. Consider these examples:

Exercise: Just 10 minutes of vigorous exercise daily can deliver nearly all the benefits of a full hour. Sure, a 90-minute workout might add a bit more, but the difference between zero and ten minutes is where most of the value lies.
Diet: Adding a few servings of fresh vegetables daily, even if you’re still enjoying the occasional comfort food, is immensely more beneficial than eating only processed foods. You don’t have to adopt a fully whole-food, plant-based diet to see the benefits!
Sleep: Improving sleep from six hours to seven has substantial benefits even if you’re not quite hitting the “gold standard” of eight. Every small improvement counts, and better sleep translates into better health in countless ways.

Perfectionism, however, blinds us to these wins. In reality, these 10% changes create a huge improvement, even if they don’t achieve the “perfect” ideal.

Reframe for Progress, Not Perfection

Instead of seeing our efforts as falling short of some impossible ideal, the shift lies in recognizing these changes as small wins. Here’s how:

Small wins add up: Each ten-minute workout is a win when compared to not moving at all. Don’t compare it to a full gym session if that wasn’t even going to happen in the first place. A few sets of bodyweight exercises at home is a victory, especially if the alternative was scrolling the news on your couch.
Simple dietary swaps matter: Choosing a side of vegetables instead of fries may feel insignificant, but it’s a valuable shift. Aiming for perfect nutrition every meal is unrealistic, but making healthier choices where possible has a real impact.
Small sleep improvements are meaningful: Going to bed after a single episode of your favorite show instead of binge-watching can give you extra rest that makes a difference. Again, the alternative isn’t perfect—it’s realistic.

Each choice you make—however “small”—is a step toward better health and vitality. The irony of perfectionism is that it convinces us not to celebrate these small wins, making the journey to self-improvement feel like a burden rather than a reward.

Embrace Voltaire’s Wisdom: Perfect Is the Enemy of Good

As the philosopher Voltaire famously wrote in French, “Le mieux est l’ennemi du bien”—or, “Perfect is the enemy of good.” Striving for the “perfect” version of every habit, action, or change becomes a barrier to achieving the very good we’re seeking. By releasing the goal of perfection, we free ourselves to make meaningful, positive changes without the weight of self-doubt.

Imagine how different the journey feels when we’re motivated by progress rather than hindered by perfection. The more we can celebrate accessible wins, the more motivated we’ll be to keep going, and the more excited we’ll be about our growth.

Progress Over Perfection: Where to Go From Here

Every step toward improvement, however imperfect, is a victory. And life, after all, is meant to be lived, with its inevitable messiness. Each time you make a choice that edges closer to your goals—whether it’s ten minutes of exercise, a little extra sleep, or adding fresh foods to your plate—that’s a win. Progress compounds. And as you embrace each small victory, your life of vitality is more within reach than ever.

So, here’s to redefining success in terms of realistic wins, embracing the imperfect, and living healthier, fuller lives without the impossible weight of perfection.

The Death of the Ego: Moving Beyond Intellectual Knowledge

Tue, 05 Nov 2024 13:30:00 GMT

We all have those moments where we grasp something intellectually, only to realize we don’t truly feel it. It’s the difference between knowing something with your mind and knowing it with every fiber of your being.

This is where I find myself stuck when it comes to the idea of the ego—or rather, its absence. The concept that there’s no real ‘I’ or ‘you,’ no separation between anything in the universe, is one I’ve wrestled with for years. I get it on an intellectual level, but feeling it—living it—well, that’s an entirely different beast.

Knowing vs. Feeling: The Mind’s Illusion

Here’s the thing: knowing that the ego is an illusion doesn’t mean you understand it in your bones. It’s one thing to say, “Oh, yeah, we’re all interconnected, just particles in this cosmic soup.” It’s quite another to actually experience life as if those divisions don’t exist. The reality is, most of us are still operating under the assumption that our egos are real. We live our lives in these little boxes, convinced that there’s a hard line between me and you.

And yet, if we zoom out, the science doesn’t support this illusion of separateness. The atoms that make up our bodies have existed since the beginning of time and will continue on through eternity. Think about it—every single particle in you was here at creation and will be here long after we’re gone. The cells in our bodies are constantly turning over—our skin cells every two to four weeks, our gut cells every few days, red blood cells about every four months. Even our brain cells, which last the longest, slowly renew themselves over decades.

This means that over time, every cell in our bodies is replaced. It’s like the Ship of Theseus, that old paradox: if you replace every plank in a ship over time, is it still the same ship? If every single cell in our body changes, are we still the same person? The atoms that make up us could have been part of Shakespeare, Genghis Khan, or Mother Teresa. So, who are we really? Who is the ‘I’ that we hold on to so tightly?

The Reality Check: The Mind’s Hack

We might say that the “I” is a hack—something our brain creates to navigate the world. It gives us a sense of continuity, of identity, but the truth is that these divisions don’t actually exist. They’re there to make life manageable. Maybe even just possible. The separation of “me” versus “you” is a trick—a useful one, sure—but a trick nonetheless. It’s like our brains are running on an outdated operating system, clinging to a sense of self that doesn’t hold up under scrutiny.

These are the kinds of questions I chew on. I wrestle with them intellectually, rolling them around in my mind. And yet, I’m so far from feeling it, from knowing it with my whole body. It’s like there’s this chasm between what I understand and what I actually experience. So, how do I bridge that gap? How do any of us?

Swimming Through Pain: My Disconnect from the Body

As I reflect on this, I think about my history as a swimmer. I once had a friend tell me there are two kinds of swimmers: those with talent and distance swimmers. And it’s true—if you had real speed, you would never choose to swim long distances! It’s only those of us who aren’t fast enough that willingly dive into the endurance races. For me, even the longest pool event, 1500 meters, felt too short. I competed there and did well, but where I really thrived was in open water. I made the USA National Team in the 25-kilometer race. That’s right—25 kilometers. I was so far from talented, I had to go the extra distance.

To push my body through races that could last for more than five hours, I trained myself to ignore the signals of pain my body was sending me. We always hear about the importance of the mind-body connection, about listening to our bodies. But this is a language I deliberately unlearned. To swim those distances, I had to override every instinct telling me to stop, to listen, to feel. I shut off the pain, the discomfort, and focused solely on the finish line.

But as I get older, as injuries pile up, I realize I’ve lost touch with this essential language. I’m trying to relearn it now, but it’s not easy. I spent years training my body to be silent, to ignore what it was telling me. And now, I’m finding that maybe that was a mistake. Maybe those signals are exactly what I need to listen to.

Relearning the Language of the Body

So here I am, trying to reconnect with my body. I’m learning to ask: Is this decision a “whole body yes”? And what does that even mean? What does it feel like when something is a yes? What does it feel like when it’s not? I wish I could tell you I have all the answers, but I’m not there yet. I’m still figuring it out. I’m trying to know things not just with my mind but with my whole being.

Which brings me back to the ego. I intellectually know that the separation between me and you doesn’t exist. That we’re all part of this flowing, interconnected whole. And yet, I haven’t felt it. Not yet. I haven’t moved from knowing to understanding, from thinking to being. Maybe that’s the point of it all—the journey, the mission, the purpose of life. To bridge that gap. To get to a place where we understand these truths with our whole selves, not just our minds.

The Journey Ahead

It’s taken me a while to start down this path deliberately. But now that I’m on it, I’m fascinated to find out where it leads. What will I discover as I work to feel, truly feel, that the ego isn’t real? That we’re all in this together, part of something much bigger than our minds can comprehend? I have no idea. But I’m committed to finding out.

So, who’s with me for the journey?

Wellness Wednesdays

Tue, 29 Oct 2024 12:30:00 GMT

Growing up, team sports were a huge part of my life. Soccer (American) / football (the entire rest of the world), basketball—you name it, I played it. These sports taught me a lot about teamwork, discipline, and pushing my limits. But as I moved into my teenage years, I found myself gravitating towards swimming, a sport that is often seen as more individualistic. I thought I was trading the camaraderie of team sports for the solitude of swimming, but in retrospect, I realize that swimming, especially at a competitive level, was anything but solitary.

Swimming demanded a lot—physically, mentally, and emotionally. Training close to 30 hours a week, I was always surrounded by my teammates. We were in the water together at the crack of dawn, pushing each other through grueling sets, and then we’d be in the same classrooms, sharing meals, and even hanging out in our downtime. The sport might have seemed like an individual pursuit, particularly when you’re on the blocks alone, staring down a lane, but the reality was that I was never really alone.

Looking back, the deep personal connections I forged with my teammates were as crucial to my development as the fitness and discipline that swimming instilled in me. We spent almost every waking moment together, and those bonds we formed are now unbreakable. But at the time, I didn’t fully appreciate how much those relationships mattered. I was too focused on the competition, the times, the victories and defeats. The social aspect of swimming, though integral, was something I took for granted.

As I transitioned out of competitive swimming, I made a conscious decision to deprioritize the social elements of my fitness routine. I started going to the gym with headphones on, using them as a signal that I was there to work out, not to chat. My workouts became a solitary pursuit, and I was okay with that—or so I thought. Even when I swam, I preferred the solitude of the ocean over joining friends at the pool. It was more convenient, I told myself, to swim right off my dock, to be on my own schedule, and to avoid the hassle of coordinating with others.

But then I started to learn about the importance of social connection for our health. I came across the work of Dr. Vivek Murthy, the U.S. Surgeon General, who highlights the dangers of loneliness in his book “Together: The Healing Power of Human Connection in a Sometimes Lonely World.” His research shows that loneliness can be as detrimental to our health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day. That’s a staggering statistic. On the flip side, having strong, secure relationships can boost our happiness and even increase our lifespan by up to 50%.

It was a wake-up call for me. I realized that in my pursuit of physical fitness, I had neglected one of the most important pillars of health: social connection. By isolating myself during workouts, I was missing out on an opportunity to enhance my health in a way that went beyond just physical fitness. Fitness and nutrition are crucial, yes, but they’re only part of the picture. Social connections are just as vital.

With this new perspective, I began to change my approach. When I went to the gym, I stopped wearing headphones. I started engaging with the people around me, and soon, I found myself deepening old friendships and even making new ones. The gym transformed from a place of solitary grind to a community hub where I could enjoy both a good workout and good company.

My approach to swimming also shifted. While I still cherish my solo ocean swims with the sea turtles and parrotfish, I’ve also started swimming with friends at lunchtime. One of my best memories from the past year is a special birthday workout I did with a bunch of friends. We laughed, we competed, and we celebrated together—it was one of those moments that reminded me of the camaraderie I had missed.

Inspired by this renewed focus on social wellness, I even teamed up with a friend to organize “Wellness Wednesdays.” We gather a group of like-minded people at his house to work out together. The workouts aren’t always what my routine calls for, but the benefits of exercising with a tribe far outweigh any deviations from my training plan. These sessions have become a highlight of my week, not just for the physical challenge, but for the connection and support we all share.

Reflecting on this journey, I’ve come to understand that health isn’t just about what you eat, how much you exercise, or how well you sleep. It’s also about who you spend your time with, how connected you feel to others, and how those relationships enrich your life. Social connection is not an afterthought—it’s a vital component of a healthy, fulfilling life.

So, as you think about your own health, consider where you’re investing your time, energy, and resources. Don’t make the mistake I did of treating social connection as a secondary priority. Elevate it to the importance it deserves. You’ll find that your life becomes healthier, longer, and, perhaps most importantly, more enjoyable when you do.

When Words Don’t Mean What We Think: Lessons from Bravery, Love, and Life

Tue, 22 Oct 2024 12:30:01 GMT

Let me take you back to one of the worst days of my life as a parent. My daughter, just shy of her third birthday, had hurt her arm. But she didn’t let on. She’s tough—insanely tough. When we asked her about it, she told us it didn’t hurt “that bad.” So, we didn’t take her to the doctor right away. She kept going to school, even doing yoga during class, but we noticed the next day she was still holding it funny and avoiding using it.

Finally, we decided to take her in, just to be sure. It turns out, her arm was broken. Not in one place, but two. I still cringe thinking about it. They put a cast on, and then we did what we thought was a good idea at the time—hosted her birthday party at the same bouncy park where she broke it. What could go wrong?

A week later, when we returned to the doctor to check if it was healing, we got the kind of news that just punches you in the gut. The bones hadn’t aligned at all. They had to remove the cast, rebreak her arm, and reset it. Without anesthesia.

I held her in my arms as she cried out, “Daddy, please make them stop!” And there I was, holding her down, feeling like the worst person in the world. Her cries tore my heart to pieces. But then, as if that moment hadn’t already shattered me, the worst came afterward. I was still shaking as I clipped her back into her car seat. Through her tears, she looked at me and said, “Daddy, sorry I wasn’t brave. Sorry I cried.”

And I just broke.

Why would she think that? Why would my tough, fierce little girl think she needed to apologize for crying? I knelt beside her, trying to gather myself, and said, “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen. You are the bravest person I know. Crying doesn’t make you less brave. Bravery is having the fear but doing it anyway. You’re so brave, so tough, and you never, ever have to apologize for crying.”

Redefining Bravery

That moment—my daughter apologizing for not being brave because she cried—has stuck with me in a profound way. It made me realize how deeply we misunderstand words like bravery. We hear “bravery” and think of superheroes, of people who show no fear. But that’s not real bravery.

Nelson Mandela put it perfectly when he said, “Courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.” Bravery isn’t about pretending you’re not scared. It’s feeling the fear, feeling the pain, and pushing through it anyway. My daughter didn’t understand that then. I didn’t understand that for a long time, either.

And it’s not just bravery we get wrong. We do the same thing with so many of the words we throw around: motivation, inspiration, talent, discipline, love. We think these virtues are innate or that they should come naturally. But the truth is, they’re hard. They don’t show up when it’s convenient. In fact, they often show up when we least feel like embodying them.

Common Virtues, Uncommon Effort

Let’s start with motivation . We often assume that motivated people always feel like doing what they do. That’s not true. Motivation isn’t this magical feeling that shows up every morning. It’s the act of pushing through inertia when you don’t want to. It’s waking up and going for that run even though your bed feels like a cozy cocoon you never want to leave. You don’t wait for motivation; you create it by doing.

Then there’s inspiration . We think of inspiration as the spark that gets us started, but more often than not, inspiration is what happens after we begin. Action creates inspiration, not the other way around. You don’t wait to feel inspired to write the book or start the project. You sit down, do the work, and somewhere along the way, the inspiration follows.

Talent ? Talent is often romanticized, as if people are born with it and that’s what drives them to pursue their passions. But talent isn’t what makes you pursue something. It’s the pursuit that develops the talent. My daughter didn’t come into this world knowing how to how to swim or do the long jump, but after countless hours in the pool, ocean, and gym, she’s starting to get the hang of both. The pursuit creates the gift, not the other way around.

Discipline is another one that’s often misunderstood. It’s not about always wanting to do the hard things. Discipline is sticking to the plan you made for yourself, especially when you want to back out. When you’re tired, when the excitement has worn off—that’s when discipline kicks in. It’s a choice, not a feeling.

And then there’s love . We often think love is just a feeling—this warm, fuzzy thing we hold onto. But real love is found in actions, especially when the feeling isn’t there. It’s in the small, daily moments. It’s in showing up, even when it’s hard. Love isn’t just about how much you feel for someone; it’s about what you *do* for them.

Why These Virtues Are Hard

We tend to think that if something is virtuous, it should feel natural. But the opposite is true. These virtues—bravery, discipline, true love—are so rare because they go against what feels natural. It’s easier to avoid the hard stuff, to give in to fear, to walk away when things get tough. That’s why we admire these qualities in others—because they’re difficult to embody.

And yet, these are the things that make life meaningful. They’re what make us stronger, more resilient, and more fulfilled. But we don’t get there by waiting for the right feeling to come along. We get there by acting despite how we feel.

How to Cultivate These Virtues in Your Own Life

So how do we cultivate more of these virtues in our lives? The answer is simple, but it’s not easy. You start by doing the thing, even when you don’t feel like it.

Bravery: Lean into the discomfort. Don’t wait to be fearless. Fear is part of the process, and pushing through it is what makes you brave.
Discipline: Set small, manageable goals and stick to them. It’s easy to be disciplined when you feel motivated, but it matters more when you don’t.
Love: Show love through actions, especially in moments when the feeling isn’t overwhelming. Love is in the little things, the daily acts of kindness and support.
Talent: Keep practicing. Whether it’s a skill, a hobby, or a passion, talent is built, not found.
Inspiration: Don’t wait to be inspired. Start now, and the inspiration will follow. Action breeds inspiration.

At the end of the day, none of this is easy. They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and I think that’s because intentions alone don’t lead to change. The road to fulfillment, joy, and peace isn’t paved with good feelings. It’s paved with good actions.

So, start acting. Don’t wait for the right moment or the perfect feeling. Bravery, love, discipline—these things don’t arrive when it’s convenient. But when you choose to act in spite of everything, that’s when life starts to change. That’s when you become the person you’ve always wanted to be.

The Unlived Life is Not Worth Examining: Why Living Matters as Much as Thinking

Tue, 15 Oct 2024 12:30:01 GMT

Socrates famously said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” It’s one of those quotes we hear often, and it usually leads us to focus on self-reflection. The idea that we need to think more, understand more, and examine our lives more deeply. And yes, self-awareness is important—critical, even. Without some reflection, we’re just moving aimlessly through life. If we don’t know where we want to go, the odds of getting there are slim.

But here’s the thing: thinking alone is not enough. Life doesn’t unfold in the safety of our heads, and sitting in a room contemplating our existence won’t help us truly live it. Life is meant to be lived. It’s about taking action, making mistakes, experiencing joy, facing challenges, and engaging with the world. Without that, all the thinking in the world won’t make a difference.

In fact, I’d argue that, to quote Julia Cameron, the unlived life is not worth examining. We can get so caught up in thinking about life that we forget to actually live it. The key is to find the right dynamic between reflection and action—one that works for you, that feels right in this moment. And the beauty of life is that this dynamic can shift as you go. It’s not about balance in the sense of equal time spent thinking and doing, but about defining your own equilibrium and being willing to adjust as needed.

The Danger of Overthinking

It’s easy to fall into the trap of overthinking. Reflection is necessary, but if we’re not careful, it can turn into paralysis by analysis. We believe that the more we think about something, the clearer things will become. But sometimes, clarity only comes through action. You can plan a vacation down to the last detail, but it doesn’t matter until you step out the door and experience it.

There’s also the danger of focusing so much on why we do something that we lose sight of the actual doing. We tell ourselves, “I need to be clear on my purpose,” and that’s a good goal, but it can go too far. If you get wrapped up in perfecting your reasoning, you might reach your destination only to find it wasn’t what you expected—because you missed the living along the way.

And that’s the paradox. If you overthink life, it passes you by. The beauty, the mess, the richness of life is found in the moments of action, not the endless reflection about those moments.

Life Requires Living

As valuable as thinking is, life is lived through engagement. We don’t become wise by sitting in isolation, contemplating what life could be. We become wise by doing—by connecting with others, trying new things, failing, succeeding, and learning from it all. Life happens in those moments when you’re out in the world, participating in it.

I think about this a lot when it comes to my pursuit of healthspan—the idea of not just living longer, but living longer well. There are countless studies, endless advice on how to optimize your health. Diets, exercise routines, supplements, sleep strategies. You could spend hours every day researching the best methods, perfecting every decision, but at a certain point, you’re no longer living.

Let’s say you spent five hours a day on health interventions—meditation, exercise, diet plans—to gain just one extra hour of life each day. The math doesn’t add up. Sure, you might live longer, but the life you lived would have been consumed by optimizing for the future. What about now? What about enjoying the life you’re trying so hard to preserve?

Seneca’s words ring true: “Life is like a play: it’s not the length, but the excellence of the acting that matters.” The goal shouldn’t be just to add more years to your life. It should be to add more life to your years. Life is not about reaching the end in the best shape possible; it’s about living fully, right now, with the energy and joy we have today.

Finding Your Dynamic Equilibrium

So, if thinking is important but not enough on its own, how do we find that sweet spot between reflection and action? The key is in finding your own dynamic equilibrium. This isn’t about creating a rigid balance where you spend equal time reflecting and doing. Life doesn’t work that way. Instead, it’s about finding a rhythm that fits your life right now—and understanding that it can and should change as your circumstances and priorities evolve.

This is where tradeoffs come in. Sometimes, you need more reflection, to understand where you’re going and why. Other times, you need to act without overthinking. The important thing is to know when to shift gears.

Here’s how you can work toward this equilibrium:

Set limits on reflection: Reflection is valuable, but it can’t consume all your energy. Give yourself a set amount of time to think through a decision, then move into action. Once you’ve done the work of thinking, trust yourself to act.
Take imperfect action: Don’t wait for the perfect plan. Perfection is the enemy of progress. Often, you won’t know the right course of action until you’ve already started moving. So start. Learn as you go.
Live in the present, not just the future: It’s tempting to optimize everything in life for future gains—your health, your career, your relationships. But remember, life is happening now. Don’t miss today because you’re trying to perfect tomorrow.
Regularly reassess your approach: Your dynamic equilibrium will change over time. Periodically check in with yourself. Are you spending too much time thinking and not enough doing? Or the other way around? Make adjustments as needed.

Start Living

I agree with Socrates that the unexamined life is not worth living, and I also believe Julia Cameron nailed it in pointing out that the unlived life is not worth examining.

Reflection is crucial, but don’t let it keep you stuck. Life is happening outside your head, in the moments you take action and engage with the world. Define your own equilibrium between thinking and doing, and be willing to adjust as life changes.

Stop waiting for the perfect plan, the perfect time, or the perfect understanding. Start living now, because life is about doing, experiencing, and embracing the messiness of the journey in the present.

The Power of Perception: How We Define Our Reality

Tue, 08 Oct 2024 12:30:00 GMT

“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” This famous line from Hamlet is one of those Shakespearean quotes that resonate deeply with how we experience the world. It suggests that events themselves are neutral; it's our perception that colors them as positive or negative. This concept isn't just poetic—it's a profound truth that, when understood, can radically transform how we navigate life.

The Philosophy Behind Perception

Throughout history, various philosophies have echoed this sentiment. The Stoics, for instance, were masters of reframing their perceptions to maintain inner peace regardless of external circumstances. Epictetus, one of the most prominent Stoic philosophers, famously said, “Men are disturbed not by things, but by the view which they take of them.” For the Stoics, the key to a tranquil life was not in trying to control external events, which are often unpredictable and uncontrollable, but in controlling how we interpret and respond to those events.

Buddhism offers a similar perspective. The saying “Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional” encapsulates the idea that while we may not avoid pain or hardship, we can choose whether or not to add layers of suffering through our thoughts. In other words, the events themselves do not cause prolonged suffering—our attachment to negative labels and resistance to what is happening does.

The Tao Te Ching, a fundamental text of Taoism, offers wisdom on this subject as well: “The Tao does not take sides; it gives birth to both good and evil.” This line speaks to the natural balance of life, where good and bad are not intrinsic qualities but rather human-made distinctions. The universe simply is —and our minds, in their attempt to make sense of it all, assign labels that may not serve us well.

These philosophies share a common thread: the idea that our experiences are shaped more by our interpretations than by the events themselves. It’s a powerful reminder that we hold the pen when it comes to writing the story of our lives.

Teaching My Daughter About Perception

I’ve tried to pass this lesson on to my daughter in many different situations. From small disappointments like losing a football match or not winning a raffle, to bigger frustrations like travel plans disrupted by weather or mechanical issues, I’ve often found myself reminding her that these events aren’t inherently good or bad—they just are . The meaning we assign to them is what determines how we feel about them.

One day, we were enjoying a perfect beach day—lots of sun, laughter, and even the unexpected joy of finding $20 buried in the sand. For my daughter, this was quickly becoming one of her best days ever. But then, as we were getting ice cream, I said no to the “just one more” treat she was begging for, and her mood shifted dramatically. Suddenly, this magical day was ruined in her eyes.

In that moment, I explained to her that she had a choice: she could focus on the one thing she didn’t get and let it spoil her day, or she could remember all the wonderful things that had happened up until that point. I told her that she has the power to decide the story she writes about her day. Is it one of disappointment or one of happiness? That choice is hers to make.

Applying the Philosophy to Real-Life Challenges

Recently, our family went through a particularly intense challenge. At times, it felt overwhelming, and I found myself labeling the situation as “bad.” But each day, I reminded myself that there would come a time when I could look back on this experience with gratitude. I knew that one day, I’d be on the other side of this struggle, able to craft a positive narrative around what we had been through.

That day eventually came. I found myself feeling genuinely grateful for the growth and the lessons we had learned as a family. When I expressed this to my daughter, she was taken aback. “But wasn’t that a horrible thing?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be sad, not grateful?”

I explained that I was living the advice I always give her. What we had been through wasn’t inherently good or bad—it just was . Yes, there were days when I labeled it as bad and felt the weight of that perception. But ultimately, I chose to write a new story, one focused on positivity and gratitude. I didn’t expect this explanation to immediately change her perspective, but I do hope that seeing me struggle with it in real-time will help her understand this approach more deeply as she grows.

The idea that nothing is inherently good or bad, but that we assign those labels ourselves, is a powerful tool for navigating life. It allows us to reclaim control over our emotional responses and to shape our experiences in ways that serve us better. While this mindset isn’t always easy to adopt, it’s one that can lead to greater peace and resilience.

Whether it’s a lost raffle, a disappointing football match, or a significant life challenge, remember that we have the power to choose how we perceive these events. The stories we tell ourselves about our lives are ours to write. By focusing on the positive and reframing the negative, we can create a narrative that uplifts and empowers us, even in the most difficult times.

The Cost of Fun: Rediscovering Play in a World of Practicality

Tue, 01 Oct 2024 12:30:00 GMT

Not too long ago, I was out for lunch with a friend and our kids. We were catching up over tacos while the little ones, full of energy, were playing nearby. Suddenly, the youngest of the group tugged at her father’s sleeve and said, “Daddy, I wish I was two again.”

My friend, a little amused, asked, “Why? Did you like being a baby?”

“No,” she replied, with a slight pout. “Because you were fun back then. Now you’re just so serious all the time.”

That answer hit me harder than I expected. Sure, it was a child's candid observation, but there was truth in it. Over the years, I’ve noticed a shift in myself and others—from being lighthearted and playful to serious and focused on logistics. It’s perhaps most noticeable in our interactions with children, who live so naturally in a world of fun and imagination. Somewhere along the way, for many of us, the joy and playfulness that once defined our days seem to have drifted away, replaced by practicality, obligations, and the weight of responsibility.

The Drift Away from Play

As adults, we are wired for practicality. The dinner won’t cook itself, bills don’t pay themselves, and someone has to arrange school pickups and appointments. Our days are packed with logistics—little tasks and schedules that need constant management. In many ways, these responsibilities make the adult world go round. If we forget to pick our kids up from practice, for example, it’s not just inconvenient—Child Protective Services might get a call!

While adulting is undeniably important, that slow drift away from fun can take a toll on the health of our relationships, our well-being, and our general outlook on life. I know, at least for me, that the more serious and preoccupied I become, the less joy I seem to allow myself. It’s not that I don’t want to have fun—it’s that fun often feels like something to squeeze in if everything else is taken care of first. And the truth is, that moment rarely comes.

Why We Lose Our Sense of Play

There’s a scientific explanation for why this shift happens. In his book Play: How It Shapes the Brain, Opens the Imagination, and Invigorates the Soul , Dr. Stuart Brown dives into the importance of play and how it impacts our brain. According to Brown, play is essential in childhood because it’s how we learn and grow. Our brains are more suited for play when we’re young, as it helps us develop crucial life skills like problem-solving, social interaction, and adaptability.

As we age, our brains naturally shift away from play because we’ve already developed many of the skills we need to function as adults. We become more focused on efficiency, results, and productivity. Play, for many of us, starts to feel like a luxury or something we outgrow. We label it as childish and replace it with serious pursuits that we deem more important.

But here’s the thing: just because the brain naturally drifts away from play, that doesn’t mean it’s the best path. There are plenty of “natural” things—like not building shelter or not wearing clothing—that we challenge because we know they lead to a better quality of life. In the same way, we can—and should—challenge this natural shift away from a playful mindset and demeanor. As adults, we have the ability to shape our own lives. Why not choose to bring a little more fun into it?

The Benefits of Play

Even though play is often associated with children, research shows that it’s just as beneficial for adults. According to Dr. Brown, play in adulthood is a powerful tool that can reduce stress, improve relationships, and even boost creativity. Engaging in playful activities has emotional and social benefits that we often overlook.

For one, play helps us become more resilient. When we allow ourselves to step away from the grind and indulge in fun, we give our brains a break. This downtime doesn’t just make us feel better in the moment—it makes us more equipped to handle challenges when they arise. We come back to our responsibilities with more energy and a clearer mind.

Play also strengthens our bonds with others, especially with family and children. Think about it: when was the last time you really played with your kids, not just watched them play? Engaging with them on their level—whether it’s a game of tag, building something together, or just being silly—can create moments of pure connection that strengthen the relationship in ways that structured, serious conversations can’t.

Bringing Play Back into Your Life

So how can we, as adults, reintroduce play into our lives? It doesn’t have to be complicated or take up a lot of time. Here are a few ideas to get started:

Be intentional about play: Set aside time in your schedule for fun. Yes, actually schedule it. Whether it's 15 minutes to play a quick game with your kids or a Saturday morning to do something lighthearted, make time for it just like you would any other important task.
Revisit hobbies: Think back to what you enjoyed doing as a child or young adult. Maybe it was painting, hiking, or playing basketball. Whatever it was, find ways to incorporate it back into your routine, even if it’s only once in a while.
Play with your kids: Instead of just supervising their playtime, join in! Let them lead the way, whether it’s building a fort, racing around the yard, or having a dance-off in the living room. You might be surprised by how much fun you have when you let yourself be silly.
Make daily tasks more fun: Not every moment of play has to be separate from your responsibilities. Turn chores into games—see how fast you can clean up a room, or put on music and dance while you cook dinner. It might sound silly, but finding ways to inject fun into the mundane can make a big difference.

Time to Play

As adults, it’s easy to get caught up in the seriousness of life. There are always logistics to manage and practical things that need our attention. But just as my friend’s daughter reminded me, we don’t have to lose our sense of fun in the process. In fact, the more we hold on to it, the more joyful our lives can become.

So, the next time you feel overwhelmed by the weight of your responsibilities, remember that it’s okay to step back and have a little fun. It might not come naturally at first, but the more we allow ourselves to play, the more it will become a part of our daily lives. After all, life may be serious, but the moments of play are where the true joy—and connection—lives.

The Science of Religion: Uniting Faith and Reason in a Modern World

Tue, 24 Sep 2024 12:30:00 GMT

Albert Einstein once pondered, "What is the meaning of human life, or, for that matter, of the life of any creature? To know an answer to this question means to be religious." This profound statement invites us to explore the complex relationship between science and religion—two realms often perceived as conflicting, yet potentially complementary in our quest for understanding.

The Shifting Landscape of Belief

In recent decades, we've witnessed a significant decline in religious observance, particularly in Western societies. The Pew Research Center reports a stark drop in Christian affiliation in the United States, from 77% in 2009 to 65% in 2019. Concurrently, those identifying as religiously unaffiliated—the "nones"—have risen from 17% to 26%.

This trend has led some to proclaim the "death of religion," suggesting that scientific advancement diminishes the need for religious belief. However, this perspective oversimplifies a nuanced reality. Einstein himself argued, "Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind," suggesting that these two pursuits might be more complementary than contradictory.

The Unintended Consequences of Secular Shift

As traditional religious participation has waned, we've observed troubling increases in reported loneliness, depression, and suicide rates. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) notes a 33% rise in U.S. suicide rates from 1999 to 2019. Nearly half of American adults report feelings of loneliness, and the World Health Organization (WHO) identifies depression as the leading cause of disability worldwide.

These correlations prompt us to consider the role of community and shared belief systems in mental health. Historically, religion has provided a sense of belonging, purpose, and communal support. Its decline coincides with a societal shift towards individualism—a change that has brought material wealth but at what cost to our collective well-being?

The Illusion of Separation

We find ourselves in an era that often views the individual as separate from the collective. Einstein astutely observed: "A human being is a part of the whole, called by us 'Universe,' a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest—a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness."

This insight echoes ancient wisdom. Lao Tzu wrote, "Watch the turmoil of beings, but contemplate their return. Each separate being in the universe returns to the common source." Similarly, Marcus Aurelius reflected on humanity's small place in the vastness of existence. These perspectives underscore the importance of recognizing our interconnectedness.

Redefining Religion in a Scientific Age

It wasn't science that rendered religion obsolete, but rather a widespread misunderstanding of religion's essence. At its core, religion is not about dogma or blind faith, but about seeking a deeper understanding of our place in the universe and our relationship with each other. While science provides tools to explore the physical world, religion offers frameworks for grappling with metaphysical and moral questions.

Einstein's reflections highlight the need for both scientific inquiry and religious wisdom to navigate life's complexities. Science can explain how the universe functions, but religion often addresses why it exists at all. By integrating these perspectives, we can cultivate a more holistic understanding of existence.

Moving Forward: Reconnecting with Community and Purpose

To address the rising rates of loneliness, depression, and suicide, we must reconsider the communal and existential aspects that religion traditionally fulfilled. This doesn't necessarily mean reverting to organized religion as it once was, but rather reviving the sense of community, purpose, and shared values that can provide much-needed social and emotional support.

As we progress, it's crucial to foster environments where science and religion can coexist and inform one another. By acknowledging our interconnectedness and seeking meaning beyond material wealth, we can create a society that values not just individual success, but the collective well-being of humanity.

Science and religion, far from being incompatible, together offer a richer tapestry of understanding. This integrated perspective can guide us toward a more meaningful and connected life, addressing the existential challenges of our time while embracing the insights of both scientific inquiry and spiritual wisdom.

From "Sleep When I Die" to Sleep Advocate: My Journey to Understanding the Importance of Rest

Tue, 17 Sep 2024 12:30:00 GMT

In today's fast-paced world, it's easy to glorify the “work hard, play hard” mentality, where sleep is often considered a luxury rather than a necessity. I used to be a staunch believer in the idea that I could "sleep when I die." My days were filled with hard work, intense play, and rigorous 5 AM workouts. To me, health was all about fitness and nutrition, with little regard for the value of a good night’s rest.

Growing up with parents who were both physicians, I inherited some of their beliefs about sleep. They went through medical residency in an era before there were protections against the inhumane hours the system required of young doctors. They often told me that we could train our bodies not to need much sleep, and I believed them.

But everything changed when I read Dr. Matthew Walker’s book, "Why We Sleep." What I "knew" was completely debunked. Walker's research and insights made it clear that sleep is not just a passive state but a critical function that impacts every aspect of our health and well-being.

Initially, I was skeptical. After all, I had been managing fine with minimal sleep for years. Or so I thought. As I delved into Walker's findings, I realized the depth of my misconceptions. He explained how insufficient sleep is linked to serious health issues like dementia and early death, the vital role of REM sleep in cognitive function and emotional regulation, and the long-term consequences of chronic sleep deprivation.

Walker’s book highlighted alarming statistics: individuals who routinely sleep less than six or seven hours a night are at significantly increased risk of developing diseases like Alzheimer’s, cardiovascular disease, stroke, and diabetes. The connection between lack of sleep and early death was particularly striking. It became clear that sacrificing sleep was not a sustainable or healthy choice.

Arthur Schopenhauer’s wisdom echoed in my mind as I read: “It might be said that sleep is the interest we have to pay on the capital which is called in at death; and the higher the rate of interest and the more regularly it is paid, the further the date of redemption is postponed.” Sure, I could wait to sleep until I was dead. And if I did? That death would likely come much sooner than it would otherwise, and certainly sooner than I wanted.

Realizing the error of my ways, I decided to make a change. I began to prioritize sleep, adopting new habits and routines to ensure I got the rest I needed. Dr. Walker’s QQRT formula became my guide. The QQRT formula stands for quality, quantity, regularity, and timing, which are key components in improving sleep hygiene.

Quality : I focused on creating a restful and undisturbed sleep environment. This meant investing in a comfortable mattress, using blackout curtains to eliminate light, wearing and eye mask and ear plugs, and maintaining a cool room temperature, including using mattress cooling technology.

Quantity : I aimed for the recommended 7-9 hours of sleep per night. This required me to adjust my schedule and make sleep a non-negotiable part of my routine.

Regularity : Consistency became crucial. I made an effort to go to bed and wake up at the same time every day, even on weekends, to stabilize my internal clock. I did not previously realize the dangers inherent in the “social jetlag” I subjected myself to every weekend.

Timing : Aligning my sleep patterns with natural circadian rhythms meant for me as an early riser avoiding late nights and ensuring I got to bed at a reasonable hour.

Implementing these changes was transformative. I noticed significant improvements in my mood, focus, and overall physical health. The benefits of good sleep were undeniable. My energy levels soared, my workouts became more effective, and I felt more present and engaged in my daily activities.

The journey from undervaluing sleep to recognizing its importance taught me valuable lessons. It’s crucial to prioritize sleep and not postpone necessary rest for the sake of work or other commitments. Everything else can wait. Building a support system that can offer objective advice and ensure we act in our best interests is also essential. Recognizing when personal biases are clouding judgment and being willing to reevaluate habits is vital.

While it’s easy to dismiss the importance of sleep in favor of productivity and other pursuits, understanding and prioritizing sleep is essential for a healthy, balanced life. Reflecting on Schopenhauer’s wisdom, it’s clear that taking care of ourselves starts with a good night’s rest. Our days don’t end with sleep, but rather they start with how we slept the night before. So, let’s reevaluate our sleep habits and make the necessary changes for better health and well-being.

Your World Turned Upside Down: Finding Happiness in What You Have

Tue, 10 Sep 2024 12:30:05 GMT

Have you ever felt like your world has been turned upside down? It’s a common experience, especially when life throws unexpected changes our way. But what if I told you that true happiness doesn't rely on what you have, but rather on your ability to appreciate the present moment, regardless of circumstances? This concept isn't new. Philosophers, spiritual leaders, and even simple greetings have long underscored the value of contentment.

The Philosophy of Less

In a previous article, "Subtracting from Your Wants" , I explored how reducing our desires can lead to greater happiness. This idea aligns with teachings from various philosophies and religions.

Tao Te Ching :

Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching emphasizes simplicity and contentment. It teaches that the more we desire, the less we can achieve true happiness. Instead, subtracting from our wants helps us find contentment in the present moment.

Buddhism :

Similarly, Buddhism promotes the idea of detachment from material desires. According to the Four Noble Truths, craving is the root cause of suffering. By letting go of these cravings, we can attain a state of Nirvana, or ultimate peace and happiness.

Stoicism :

Stoicism, too, teaches us to focus on what we can control and to accept what we cannot. As Epictetus, a Stoic philosopher, stated, "Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants." This philosophy encourages us to find joy in our current circumstances, rather than constantly seeking more.

Hebrew Wisdom:

Even in Hebrew, the salutation "shalom" conveys a deep meaning. Shalom means peace and completeness, wishing someone fullness and contentment with what they already have. It’s not about accumulating more, but about being whole with what you have.

When What You "Have" is Taken Away

But what happens when what you "have" is taken away? This is a question I’ve had to confront recently. Much of what I previously meditated on for happiness and satisfaction has changed in my life. It led me to question: if my happiness was tied to what I had, and I no longer had that, what did it mean for my happiness?

Initially, it felt like an obvious point—if happiness is tied to possessions or specific circumstances, then losing them should lead to unhappiness. However, it took painful work to realize that happiness isn't about what I have or don’t have. It’s about the process and practice of choosing to happy now, in the present moment, under any circumstances.

This realization reminds me of conversations I had when I first moved to Bermuda. People often told me, “You’ll have a hard time when you leave Bermuda.” My response was always the same: I didn’t think so. Yes, I was happy in Bermuda, but I was also happy in Birmingham, Greenville, Boston, Atlanta, Copenhagen, and more. My happiness didn't depend on my geography; it depended on me.

This same principle applies to being happy with what you have. It’s not about the actual possessions or circumstances but about choosing happiness, satisfaction, and gratitude in any situation.

Here are some lessons I’ve learned along the way:

Mindfulness and Presence: Being present in the moment is crucial. Instead of longing for what was or what could be, focus on the now. Mindfulness practices can help center your thoughts and bring peace.
Gratitude: Practicing gratitude daily can shift your focus from what’s lacking to what’s abundant in your life. Even small things, like a warm cup of coffee or a kind word from a friend, can become sources of joy.
Acceptance: Acceptance doesn’t mean resignation. It means acknowledging your current situation and finding ways to thrive within it. This mental shift can lead to greater peace and happiness.
Reframing Challenges: Instead of seeing challenges as obstacles, view them as opportunities for growth. This perspective can transform your experience and lead to personal development.

Life is unpredictable, and what we have today may be gone tomorrow. But true happiness comes from within. By focusing on the present moment, practicing gratitude, and embracing acceptance, we can find contentment regardless of our circumstances.

Your world may be turned upside down, but your happiness doesn’t have to be. It’s all about finding peace and contentment with what you have right now. Remember, happiness is a choice and a practice in every moment, not a location in the past or a destination in the future. We can and should choose it now.

Epi-curios

Tue, 03 Sep 2024 12:30:00 GMT

In a world where the pursuit of pleasure often translates to accumulating more, Epicureanism is frequently misunderstood. Wikipedia defines Epicureanism as “a form of hedonism, which declares that pleasure is the only good there is.” This seems to suggest a life of endless indulgence and material excess. However, the truth is far more nuanced, and it’s a truth that can transform our approach to happiness and fulfillment.

Epicureanism is often juxtaposed against Stoicism, a philosophy that sees pleasure and pain as indifferent and argues that the ultimate good comes from inner virtue. While Stoics focus on resilience and inner strength, Epicureans emphasize the importance of pleasure. This might seem like a call for constant indulgence, but Epicurus himself had a much different view.

The father of Epicureanism, Epicurus, once said, “Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.” This advice sounds more like the teachings of minimalist Stoics or Buddhist monks than what we might expect from a hedonistic philosophy. But therein lies the true wisdom of Epicurus.

Epicureanism is commonly perceived as advocating for an unrestrained pursuit of pleasure. In today's society, this often translates to acquiring more wealth, more possessions, and more status. We equate pleasure with having the latest gadgets, the biggest houses, and the most lavish vacations. Yet, this interpretation misses the essence of what Epicurus actually taught.

Epicurus believed that pleasure is the ultimate good, but he defined pleasure in terms of tranquility and freedom from fear, rather than in terms of constant indulgence. He advocated for a simple life, focused on the joys of friendship, contemplation, and self-sufficiency. Epicurus' ideal was not a life of luxury, but one of modesty and appreciation for what we have.

The True Epicurean Philosophy

“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.” This quote encapsulates the heart of Epicurean wisdom. It encourages us to find contentment in our current circumstances, to savor the simple pleasures that life offers, and to recognize the value in what we already possess.

Epicurus taught that the key to a happy life lies not in the relentless pursuit of more, but in the cultivation of contentment. By focusing on what we have and appreciating it fully, we can achieve a state of tranquility and avoid the endless cycle of desire and dissatisfaction.

Interestingly, this perspective shares much with other philosophical traditions. Stoicism, for instance, teaches that true happiness comes from within, through the cultivation of virtue and self-control. Stoics believe that external goods are neither good nor bad, and that our inner character is what truly matters.

Buddhism also emphasizes non-attachment and mindfulness. By letting go of our desires for more and focusing on the present moment, we can achieve a state of inner peace. Both Stoicism and Buddhism, like Epicureanism, highlight the importance of appreciating what we have and finding contentment in the here and now.

This timeless wisdom is beautifully illustrated by the story of Kurt Vonnegut and Joseph Heller. At a party given by a billionaire, Vonnegut informs his friend Heller that their host, a hedge fund manager, had made more money in a single day than Heller had earned from his wildly popular novel Catch-22 over its entire history. Heller responds, “Yes, but I have something he will never have — ENOUGH.”

In a society driven by the constant pursuit of more, this idea of “enough” is profoundly liberating. It challenges us to step off the hedonic treadmill and to recognize the value of what we already have. The relentless chase for more can lead to a cycle of perpetual dissatisfaction, where no amount of wealth or possessions ever seems sufficient.

Cultivating Contentment

So how can we apply Epicurus’ wisdom in our own lives? Here are a few practical steps:

Practice Mindfulness and Gratitude: Take time each day to reflect on what you are grateful for. Mindfulness practices can help you stay present and appreciate the moment.
Set Boundaries: Avoid the temptation to constantly acquire more. Set limits on your desires and focus on enjoying what you already have.
Value Experiences and Relationships: Invest in experiences and relationships rather than material goods. The joy and fulfillment that come from meaningful connections and memorable experiences far outweigh the temporary pleasure of new possessions.

By adopting these practices, we can cultivate a mindset of appreciation and contentment. We can learn to savor the splendor of what we already have, finding joy in the simple pleasures of life.

Epicurus’ wisdom teaches us that true happiness and peace come not from the relentless pursuit of more, but from appreciating what we already have. Whether through the lens of Epicureanism, Stoicism, Buddhism, or even modern minimalism, the lesson remains the same: the key to a fulfilling life is to cultivate contentment and gratitude.

As we navigate our lives, let us remember the words of Epicurus and strive to appreciate the present moment. By doing so, we can achieve a state of tranquility and joy that no amount of material wealth can ever provide.

Balancing Contentment and Self-Improvement

Tue, 27 Aug 2024 12:30:01 GMT

In one of his books, Chip Conley mentions a basin he saw in Kyoto with an inscription that translates to: "What I have is all I need for I am content with all I am." This simple yet profound message captures the essence of contentment, a concept echoed across various ancient philosophies. Yet, how can we reconcile this deep sense of contentment with the drive for self-improvement?

Wisdom from Ancient Philosophies

The Stoics, Taoists, and Buddhists all offer valuable insights on contentment. Stoic philosopher Epictetus once said, "He who is not contented with what he has, would not be contented with what he would like to have." This highlights the futility of constantly seeking more. Similarly, the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu teaches, "He who knows that enough is enough will always have enough," emphasizing the importance of recognizing and appreciating sufficiency. Buddha, too, regarded contentment as crucial, famously stating, "Contentment is the greatest wealth."

These teachings suggest that true happiness comes from being content with what we have and who we are. But this raises a crucial question: how can we strive for self-improvement while maintaining this level of acceptance and contentment?

The Dilemma of Self-Improvement

I’ve personally grappled with this dilemma. Inspired by Jim Loehr’s "Leading with Character," I developed my personal mission statement: "My mission is to continuously learn and grow in service to broadening and deepening the positive impact I have on others." This mission drives me to constantly improve and expand my capabilities. But how can I reconcile this with being content with who I am and what I have?

The answer lies in recognizing that contentment and self-improvement are not mutually exclusive. Epictetus provides a valuable perspective: “Progress is not achieved by luck or accident, but by working on yourself daily.” This suggests that self-improvement is a natural part of engaging with and appreciating the world around us.

In my own life, I’ve found that embracing the idea of not needing more has made me measurably happier. Happiness was not a distant goal but something within my grasp with the right mindset. My mission to continuously learn and grow is not at odds with my contentment; instead, it aligns perfectly. I am content with being on a lifelong journey of learning and growth. This journey is the "me" I am content with, and it is what I "have."

Developing and embracing a personal mission statement can help anyone achieve a balance between contentment and self-improvement. Jim Loehr’s book is a fantastic guide for this process. Knowing your own mission, living it, and being content with it—and with who you are in the process of becoming—is the greatest gift you can give yourself.

By understanding that your mission is part of your identity, you can find contentment in the continuous process of growth. This way, self-improvement becomes a fulfilling journey rather than a relentless pursuit of an ever-elusive goal.

So why wait? Start your journey of self-discovery and contentment today. Develop your personal mission statement, embrace it, and find happiness in who you are and where you are in your journey. The benefits are immense and immediate. There’s no reason to delay. Begin now and give yourself the greatest gift of all: a life of contentment and continuous growth.

Riding the Wave of Revolution: Navigating the Inevitable

Tue, 20 Aug 2024 12:30:00 GMT

Napoleon once said, "A revolution can neither be made nor stopped." This powerful statement suggests that once a revolution begins, it cannot be controlled or halted, and at the same time no “one” can actually start it. In contrast, Margaret Mead famously asserted, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed individuals can change the world. In fact, it's the only thing that ever has." At first glance, these perspectives seem contradictory. How can revolutions be both un-startable and unstoppable? If the former is true, how can they be driven by small groups of individuals? The answer lies in understanding the synergy of ideas and timing and recognizing the role of committed individuals in sparking inevitable changes.

Understanding Revolutions

Napoleon's perspective highlights the uncontrollable nature of revolutions. Once the spark is ignited, the momentum builds, often beyond the control of those who initiated it. The French Revolution is a prime example. Initially driven by efforts to address societal inequalities, it soon escalated into a force that swept across France, fundamentally transforming the nation despite attempts to manage or suppress it.

On the other hand, Mead's view emphasizes the importance of small, committed groups in initiating change. The Civil Rights Movement, led by activists like Martin Luther King Jr., demonstrates how dedicated individuals can ignite a movement that eventually becomes a powerful and unstoppable force. Their efforts catalyzed significant social change, proving that a small group can indeed change the world.

The Coalescence of Momentum

Revolutions gain unstoppable momentum when the right ideas meet the right time. This is not only true for political and social movements but also for scientific revolutions. Take the development of CRISPR technology, for instance. Jennifer Doudna and Emmanuelle Charpentier are often credited with pioneering CRISPR, but bioengineer Feng Zhang and geneticist George Church also made significant contributions around the same time. The convergence of multiple scientists working towards similar breakthroughs independently highlights how timing and synergy can propel scientific revolutions forward. Similarly, calculus was independently discovered by both Newton and Leibniz, showing how revolutionary ideas often emerge simultaneously in different parts of the world.

Once enough circumstances align, revolutions seem inevitable. The Industrial Revolution, driven by technological innovations and economic needs, is a prime example. The collective advancements in machinery, transportation, and communication created a momentum that fundamentally transformed societies. Dedicated individuals, like the Enlightenment thinkers, played crucial roles in shaping these movements by influencing societal changes that paved the way for various revolutions.

Understanding these macro trends and the environment is crucial for business leaders. Warren Buffett's quote, "When a management with a reputation for brilliance tackles a business with a reputation for poor fundamental economics, it is the reputation of the business that remains intact," underscores the importance of aligning with macro trends. Brilliant managers can shape the market and the future, but mostly in the direction it is already heading. For instance, Apple's alignment with the tech boom under Steve Jobs showcases how businesses can ride the wave of industry trends to achieve success.

So, what can we learn from these patterns? Here are some strategies for individuals and businesses to leverage inevitable changes:

Identify Emerging Trends Early: Stay informed about macro trends and emerging technologies. This helps in positioning yourself or your business ahead of the curve.
Invest in Innovation and Adaptability: Continuously innovate and adapt to changing environments. Flexibility and a forward-thinking approach can turn potential disruptions into opportunities.
Balance Control and Letting Go: Learn to navigate the balance between steering efforts and riding the wave of momentum. This involves knowing when to take decisive action and when to let the natural course of events unfold.

Both Napoleon's and Mead's quotes highlight different aspects of revolutions and changes. While revolutions are unstoppable once they begin, they are often initiated by small groups of thoughtful, committed individuals who lean into preexisting trends. Recognizing when to lead and when to ride the wave is crucial in both personal and professional contexts, ensuring not only our success but also our sanity.

Easier Said Than Done: The Clarity of Giving Advice vs. Taking It

Tue, 13 Aug 2024 12:30:03 GMT

It’s a common experience: we find it easier to advise others on their issues than to follow our own advice. This discrepancy hit home for me recently during a health scare. My doctor advised immediate surgery, but I thought I could wait a couple of weeks. My schedule seemed too packed to accommodate an urgent procedure. It wasn't until I talked to my mom, a pediatric hematologist oncologist, that I realized how skewed my priorities were. Her immediate and unequivocal response was, “Any of that can get rescheduled. You need to take care of this right now.”

Initial Reaction

When my doctor advised immediate surgery, my first reaction was to look at my calendar. It was filled with meetings, deadlines, and commitments that seemed too important to delay. I felt a deep sense of responsibility to those I had commitments with and feared letting people down by canceling or rescheduling. The urgency of my health issue was clouded by the perceived importance of my schedule.

Why is it so much easier to give advice than to take it? When advising others, we see the situation from a detached perspective, unburdened by the emotional and cognitive biases that cloud our judgment when it's our own issue. We’re not influenced by the overabundance of knowledge and personal stakes that often create unhelpful narratives.

We see all the irrelevant minutiae in high resolution in our own lives, but our distance allows us to focus on only what is most important in others. This clarity is what enables us to give sound advice to others, yet it becomes a hindrance when we try to apply the same logic to our own problems. Our personal involvement and the wealth of information we have about our own lives can lead to indecision and poor choices.

Objective advice from someone who isn't emotionally invested in the situation can be a lifesaver, literally. My mom’s intervention was crucial. Her medical background and clear-headed assessment cut through my confusion and prompted me to take immediate action, which likely prevented further complications.

The upshot? I was able to get in with the surgeon the next day, and by Monday had the results. They were 100% positive: all the margins of the cuts were clean, meaning the cancer had been removed. This news put me and my family in a much better frame of mind, highlighting the importance of prompt action in health matters.

Broader Implications

Arthur Schopenhauer's wisdom on health being paramount resonated deeply with me after this experience. He said, “[N]ine-tenths of our happiness depends upon health alone. With health, everything is a source of pleasure; without it, nothing else, whatever it may be, is enjoyable...The greatest of follies is to sacrifice health for any other kind of happiness, whatever it may be, for gain, advancement, learning or fame, let alone, then, for fleeting sensual pleasures. Everything else should rather be postponed to it.”

This incident was a stark reminder that health should always be our top priority. It’s easy to let other concerns take precedence, but as Schopenhauer pointed out, without health, nothing else truly matters.

As a result of this experience, what am I now doing differently?

Prioritizing Health: Don’t just say it. Do it. Everything else can wait.
Building a Support System: The value of having a support system that can offer objective advice and ensure we act in our best interests cannot be overstated.
Learning to Listen: The support system does little if we can’t hear the advice we are receiving. Speak less; listen more.

While it’s easy to give advice, taking it—especially when it concerns our own well-being—is often much harder. This experience reinforced the importance of prioritizing health and the value of having a strong support system. I’m grateful to my mom for her decisive intervention and reminder that our health must always come first. So, take care of yourself, listen to those who care about you, and remember that everything else can wait.

Learning: More Than Knowledge Consumption

Tue, 06 Aug 2024 12:30:01 GMT

“Learning is not memorizing information. Learning is changing our behavior.” These words, shared with me by a good friend, immediately struck a chord. As someone who consumes an immense amount of knowledge – over 100 books a year, countless podcasts, articles, and more – I felt compelled to reflect on my own learning journey. Am I truly learning, or am I merely a repository of information? This introspection led me to consider the distinction between consuming knowledge and genuinely learning from it.

Every day, we are bombarded with a wealth of wisdom, a proverbial firehose from which we eagerly drink. But as I delved deeper into the meaning of learning, I realized that intellectual understanding alone does not equate to true learning. The real measure of learning is how much we integrate that knowledge into our lives, altering our behavior and perspectives.

This reflection was a key reason behind the exercises and worksheets I included in my book, Get Out of My Head: Creating Modern Clarity with Stoic Wisdom . I wanted to provide readers with tools to transform inspiration into lasting change. Too often, I’ve witnessed people, including myself, be moved by a speech, a book, or an event, only to return to their old ways once the initial spark of inspiration faded. Inspiration should ignite a sustainable flame, not just a fleeting flash that leaves no warmth behind.

There's a saying that we see in others the shortcomings that bother us most about ourselves. This certainly rings true for me. Despite my voracious consumption of knowledge, I often find myself falling short in incorporating these insights into my daily life. This recurring struggle is why I make it a point to reread certain books annually – Tao Te Ching, Meditations , and Leadership and Self-Deception are a few of my staples. Each reading offers fresh insights and a chance to regain something I might have lost over the months.

However, this brings up an intriguing question: can we label this process as learning? While I was grappling with my perceived inadequacies, my friend provided a comforting perspective: “I’d give yourself more credit. You implement far more than most anyone I know.” Perhaps part of the issue lies in perception. If you consume 100 units of knowledge and only manage to change your behavior with 40 of those units, it might seem like you haven't learned much if you focus on the 60 you missed. In contrast, someone who consumes only 10 units and implements all might feel more successful in their learning journey, despite the absolute change being less.

So, what is the right answer? Is it better to consume vast amounts of knowledge and implement a smaller percentage, or to consume less but integrate a higher percentage? Honestly, I don't have a definitive answer. What I do know is that the right approach does not involve avoiding new knowledge or failing to apply what we learn.

Instead, I propose a deliberate approach to knowledge consumption. We should continuously seek out new wisdom and strive to internalize it, even if we aren’t always perfect in our application. The abundance of knowledge available to us is staggering – more than we could ever fully process in multiple lifetimes. The key is to actively engage with this wisdom and make consistent efforts to change our behavior based on what we learn.

To bring this full circle, let’s embrace the idea that learning is an ongoing journey. It’s not about achieving perfection but about making continuous progress. Each small change in our behavior, inspired by the knowledge we consume, contributes to our growth. Whether we consume a lot or a little, the ultimate goal is to allow this wisdom to shape us in meaningful ways.

Happy learning! And remember, the only wrong approach is to stop seeking knowledge or to fail to let it transform you. Let's continue to drink from the firehose of wisdom and strive to integrate its lessons into our lives.

The Tiny Sanctuary

Tue, 30 Jul 2024 12:30:00 GMT

As life whirls around us, we all crave a personal haven - a tiny space to call our own. I was reminded of this recently when my friend shared a heartwarming story about his kids after his divorce.

With three little ones of different ages processing the split in their own ways, he knew he needed to create safe spaces for them to explore their feelings. That's when his middle child, always the most sensitive, made a simple yet profound request: "Dad, can you build me a tiny house in the backyard?"

On the surface, it was an innocent ask for a new playhouse. But my friend recognized it as something deeper - his child's yearning for a sanctuary amid the emotional turbulence. A place where she could retreat, find solace, and call her own.

Moved by her request, my friend eagerly took on the tiny home project. He grabbed supplies from Home Depot and got to work, his mind swirling with visions of creating the perfect little retreat. But as the walls went up, he realized this was about more than just construction.

This tiny abode was becoming a physical manifestation of his role as a parent - to provide a safe, nurturing space for his kids to grow, especially through life's challenges. The project was a journey in empathy, understanding what his child truly needed.

When it was finally complete, that cozy tiny home represented so much more than four walls and a roof. It was a delicate balance - offering independence and freedom to be alone with one's thoughts, yet nestled securely in the warmth of family. A place to find solace but never feel too far from love and support.

As parents, don't we all strive to create these havens for our children? Whether an actual tiny home or a metaphorical safe space, providing this sanctuary is vital for their emotional development. It allows kids to explore big feelings, find their voice, and know they are accepted no matter what.

The Need for A Personal Retreat

In retrospect, my friend had another realization that expanded far beyond the needs of our children. "I realized, after initially talking to my daughter," he later told me, "how courageous she was for not only voicing her sadness but also recognizing what she needed and asking for it. Many adults could take a page from that. Let’s not be afraid to share our feelings, shame be damned, and ask for what we need."

Indeed, this need for a personal sanctuary isn't limited to childhood. We adults also need our own "tiny homes" - sanctuaries where we can escape the noise, hit pause on the world's demands, and simply be. It could be a favorite reading nook, a quiet park bench, or even the warm abstraction of a relaxing hobby.

In our frenetic, ever-connected reality, having a tiny personal retreat is more crucial than ever. We're constantly channeled through the fire hose of life, inundated with inputs until we collapse into bed, only to be swept up again at dawn. Couldn't we all benefit from a tiny home of our own making?

My friend’s tiny home project is a powerful reminder that we all need spaces that are truly ours - places where we're free to feel, dream, recharge. Whether for our kids or ourselves, creating these sanctuaries nurtures our souls and fortifies our resilience.

So let's channel that tiny home inspiration. Let's be intentional about carving out the breathing room we all need to thrive, honoring our yearning for solace and freedom in this overcrowded world. In doing so, we create the balanced, grounded lives we all deserve.

Silver Linings Playbook: Finding the Positive in Any Situation

Tue, 23 Jul 2024 12:30:00 GMT

For much of my life, I thought cynicism was a mark of intelligence. It seemed like the hallmark of those who were sharp, critical, and discerning. This belief only solidified when I entered law school, where the environment encouraged tearing apart arguments and scrutinizing every detail. As law students, we were trained to find flaws and anticipate what could go wrong. This was what lawyers did—identify weaknesses, dissect arguments, and prepare for the worst. And I thrived in that mindset, thinking it was the smart, logical way to approach life.

The Contrarian Roommate

However, during my time in law school, I had a roommate who was the complete opposite. He had an uncanny ability to find the positive in any situation. While the rest of us would laugh at his seemingly naïve optimism, one particular incident during our spring break in Panama was an eye-opener.

After a wild night out, this roommate indulged in some questionable street meat, resulting in a horrible bout of food poisoning. While most people would be lamenting their bad luck and missed scuba diving plans, he had a different take. As we prepared for our dive, he lay in bed, pale and weak, but managed to smile and say, “Maybe this is a good thing. I haven’t been eating well and have probably been drinking too much on this trip. Perhaps this is my body’s way of cleansing itself.” We thought it was hilarious, until one friend, who wasn’t as familiar with us, pointed out, “So, you’re making fun of him for being positive?” That comment hit me hard.

That simple question triggered a significant introspection. Why was I mocking someone for their optimism? What did that say about my outlook on life? This moment didn't instantaneously change me, but it certainly planted a seed. It started me on a different trajectory, gradually shifting my perspective towards finding positives rather than focusing on negatives.

Embracing Positivity

Fast forward to today, I actively try to find, cultivate, and focus on the positive in every situation. For example, I recently lost a pair of goggles while body surfing. Instead of being upset, I thought, “They were getting scratched up anyway. I am probably too cheap to have gone and bought a new pair, but hey! This forces me to buy new ones.”

In a more serious instance, when doctors found two malignant melanomas on my shoulder and back, requiring immediate surgery, I saw it as an opportunity. I had been ignoring shoulder issues for a while, and the surgery forced me to rest and heal, which I’d otherwise have neglected. Plus, to butcher a Taylor Swift lyric, "I’m now so injured I can act like it's leg day every day!” #legday

Life’s Silver Linings

Living this way doesn’t mean I am blindly optimistic or ignore real problems. Instead, it’s about perspective and finding a silver lining in even the most challenging situations. Sure, I might have felt “smarter” pointing out flaws and potential problems all the time, but I wasn’t happier. And at the end of the day, happiness and a sense of contentment are what matter most to me.

Every moment, every day, offers something to appreciate and be grateful for. This doesn’t happen overnight. It takes deliberate effort to build and maintain a positive mindset—a silver linings playbook, if you will. This approach has definitely made my life more enjoyable, and I believe it can do the same for you.

The journey from cynicism to optimism is ongoing and requires conscious effort. It’s about finding the balance between being realistic and maintaining hope, about training your mind to see the good, even when it’s not immediately apparent. Developing a silver linings playbook isn’t about ignoring life’s challenges but about approaching them with a mindset that seeks out and appreciates the positives.

Living this way, I’ve found a greater sense of peace and happiness. So, the next time you face a setback or a challenging situation, try to find that silver lining. It might be small or seem insignificant, but it’s there. And over time, you’ll notice that focusing on these positives can transform your outlook on life, making it richer and more fulfilling.

The True Nobility of Self-Improvement Over Comparison

Tue, 16 Jul 2024 12:30:00 GMT

In an insightful conversation with a former professional athlete, I was struck by a profound dichotomy between winning and self-improvement. He candidly admitted that for him, success wasn't about being his best, but about being the best. This often meant adopting strategies not to enhance his performance, but to impede others, ensuring his victory. His perspective, while effective in a competitive sports arena, sparked a broader reflection on the nature of success and self-worth, reminiscent of an ancient Hindu proverb: "There is nothing noble in being superior to some other man. The true nobility is in being superior to your previous self."

The Zero-Sum Game of Constant Comparison

The athlete's approach is a classic example of a zero-sum mindset, where one's gain is invariably another’s loss. Such a philosophy, deeply ingrained in competitive fields like sports, often seeps into other aspects of life—business, relationships, and personal goals. This mindset can lead to unethical behaviors and a perpetual state of dissatisfaction, as the focus remains outward, constantly measuring oneself against others.

This external gaze is further exacerbated by the advent of social media. Platforms designed to connect us also subtly encourage a relentless comparison of achievements, lifestyles, and successes. This constant outward looking not only distracts us from personal growth but also diminishes our happiness, feeding into Theodore Roosevelt's famous adage that "comparison is the thief of joy."

Contrasting with the scarcity mindset of zero-sum games is the abundance mindset. This perspective views personal growth and success as limitless resources. It emphasizes improving oneself without the expense of others, focusing on internal growth and recognizing the infinite potential within. Adopting an abundance mindset shifts the paradigm from a focus on external metrics of success to an internal measure of progress and fulfillment.

How, then, can we cultivate this noble approach to life? Here are a few practical strategies:

Mindfulness and Reflection: Regular practices like meditation and journaling can enhance self-awareness and foster an internal focus. They help us reflect on our progress and appreciate our journey without external validation.
Setting Personal Goals: Develop personal goals that resonate with your values and ambitions, not those dictated by societal standards or peer achievements. This process involves introspection and a clear understanding of one’s desires and capabilities.
Limiting Social Media: While challenging, reducing our social media consumption can have profound effects on our mental health and self-esteem. It helps shift our focus from comparative metrics to personal achievements and everyday joys.

Focusing on self-improvement rather than external comparison brings multiple benefits. Emotionally, it alleviates the pressure and stress associated with constant competition. Psychologically, it builds resilience and a stronger sense of self-worth as achievements are internally driven. Socially, it fosters healthier relationships unmarred by rivalry and envy, as we learn to appreciate others' successes without seeing them as reflections of our shortcomings.

This focus on personal growth leads to continuous learning and development, offering a sustainable path to happiness and fulfillment. Individuals who prioritize being superior to their previous selves often find themselves in a constant state of evolution, embracing challenges and viewing setbacks not as failures, but rather as opportunities for growth.

The journey of self-improvement is a noble pursuit. In a world that often values the external markers of success—wealth, status, and power—choosing to focus on personal growth is both countercultural and enriching. By striving to be superior to our previous selves, we engage in a process of continuous learning and development, unfettered by the need to outdo others.

This approach does not just alter how we perceive success; it transforms how we live our lives. It encourages us to find contentment and joy in our personal journey and to celebrate the achievements of others without resentment. As we look inward for validation rather than outward for comparison, we cultivate a life of genuine fulfillment and peace.

I encourage everyone to embrace this mindset. Evaluate your motivations, set personal goals, and let go of the incessant need to compare. Remember, the most significant victory is not over others, but over the limitations we set for ourselves. Embrace this noble path and discover the infinite potential that lies within you.

The Danger of Using Facts to Obscure the Truth

Tue, 09 Jul 2024 12:30:00 GMT

We really shouldn’t use facts as an excuse to hide the truth. Especially from ourselves.

In an age where information is at our fingertips, discerning the truth becomes both simpler and infinitely more complex. Facts, once considered the bedrock of rational decision-making, can also be manipulated to obscure a larger truth, offering a shield against the full breadth of reality. This selective use of facts not only distorts our perception but can also lead us to live in a constructed reality that comforts rather than challenges.

Understanding the Difference Between Facts and Truth

Facts are pieces of information that are indisputable within their context, like numbers or statements proven by observation. Truth, on the other hand, is a comprehensive understanding that includes context, interpretation, and the integration of multiple facts. For instance, while it might be a fact that a company’s profits increased this quarter (a statistical reality), the truth about the company’s financial health might be more complex, involving underpaid labor or unsustainable practices. This distinction highlights how facts can be cherry-picked or framed within a certain narrative to support a misleading or incomplete version of the truth.

Mark Twain once popularized the saying, “There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics.” This witty remark underscores the ease with which facts — particularly statistical data — can be used to paint a picture far removed from the nuanced truth. The comfort of clinging to such "factual" shields stems from a psychological aversion to cognitive dissonance — the mental discomfort experienced when confronted with information that contradicts our beliefs or values.

Facing the full truth often means confronting aspects of ourselves or our societies that we might find uncomfortable or even distressing. For example, acknowledging that one's success might have been partly due to unearned privileges (like socioeconomic status or geographic location) can be unsettling. However, the selective use of facts can simplify the narrative, enabling one to avoid such self-confrontation.

Consequences of Ignoring the Truth

The repercussions of ignoring broader truths in favor of convenient facts can ripple out, affecting not just individual lives but entire societies. In personal relationships, this practice can lead to misunderstandings or resentment, as important issues are glossed over or ignored. Professionally, it can result in poor decision-making, as leaders who focus on isolated facts might miss out on crucial context that could affect their strategic decisions.

On a societal level, the selective use of facts can contribute to misinformation and polarization. When groups of people only accept facts that confirm their pre-existing beliefs, dialogue becomes stifled, and compromise becomes impossible, leading to a fragmented society.

To combat the inclination to hide behind convenient facts, one can adopt several strategies. First, critically analyze information by checking sources, considering other viewpoints, and understanding the context. This might mean reading beyond the headline or seeking out information from a variety of sources.

Second, being honest with oneself is crucial. Techniques like reflective journaling or engaging in open conversations with trusted individuals can help in recognizing and addressing personal biases. Embracing uncertainty and maintaining an open mind are also vital. Recognizing that one does not have all the answers can be a powerful motivator for continuous learning and growth.

Improving media literacy is essential in helping individuals discern between mere facts and a more nuanced truth. Education systems can aid in this by emphasizing critical thinking and analytical skills from an early age. Teaching students not just to accept facts at face value but to explore the context, challenge assumptions, and understand the bigger picture can foster a more informed and discerning citizenry.

In our quest for understanding, it is imperative that we do not use facts as a barrier against the truth but as steppingstones towards a deeper comprehension. By recognizing the difference between isolated facts and a holistic truth, and striving to embrace the latter, we enrich our perspectives and enhance our engagements with the world. As we navigate through vast oceans of information, let us commit to seeking truth in its most complete and unadulterated form.

Shoshin

Tue, 02 Jul 2024 12:30:00 GMT

In a quaint and quiet temple, nestled amidst sprawling gardens, a wise Zen master once taught a profound lesson using nothing but a teacup. This story, simple in its delivery yet deep in its meaning, serves as a timeless metaphor for Shoshin, a concept in Zen Buddhism which translates to "beginner's mind." This principle encourages openness, eagerness, and a lack of preconceptions when studying a subject, much like a beginner would.

The Tale of the Overflowing Cup

The story begins with a wealthy and authoritative man who approaches the Zen master to learn about Zen. Accustomed to control and obedience, he demands enlightenment from the master. In response, the master suggests they discuss Zen over a cup of tea. As he pours the tea, the master continues even after the cup is full, spilling tea over the table and onto the man's robes. The visitor, unable to contain his frustration, exclaims about the mess. The master then reveals the true lesson: like the cup, the man’s mind is so full that no new knowledge can enter. He advises the man to return with an empty mind.

In today’s fast-paced, information-saturated world, adopting a beginner's mind might seem counterintuitive. We are often measured by our expertise and encouraged to form quick opinions. However, the beauty of Shoshin lies in its humility and the boundless opportunities it presents for learning and growth. Embracing a beginner's mind allows us to experience the world afresh and cultivates a life-long openness to new truths and perspectives.

Shoshin is not just about continuous learning but also about the quality of our interactions and ideas. It encourages us to approach problems and situations without the cloud of past judgments, enabling more creative and effective solutions. It is a reminder that no matter how much we know, there is always something new to learn.

I have learned this firsthand by its absence. Early in my entrepreneurial journey when new employees would speak up with ideas we had already had previously as a company I would reply with: “We already tried that, and it didn’t work.” This was a terrible approach.

For one it taught new employees, previously bursting with enthusiasm, that their creativity was not valued thus depriving my company of some of its best potential. At the same time, it failed to recognize that things change. We tried something similar before and it did not work. Fine. But was that because the timing was wrong? Because we did not try it in the right way? Had the market changed since then? Surely. Had we changed as a company since then? I sure hope so!

I admittedly am far from perfect in this, I am not Buddha after all! But I have found the following to be helpful to me in maintaining a beginner’s mind/

Embrace Curiosity: Cultivate curiosity in everyday activities. Ask questions like a newcomer might. When faced with tasks, even routine ones, ask yourself, "What can I learn from this?"
Challenge Preconceptions: Regularly challenge your own ideas and beliefs. Consider alternative perspectives in every situation. This can be as simple as reading about a contrary viewpoint or discussing ideas with someone who disagrees with you.
Practice Mindfulness: Be fully present in the moment. I personally practice being better at this through my daily meditation practice, which clears the mind of clutter and helps maintain a state of openness.
Seek New Experiences: Step outside your comfort zone and expose yourself to new ideas and experiences. This could mean traveling to new places, exploring new hobbies, or engaging in new forms of art or culture.
Reflect Regularly: Spend time in reflection, considering not only what you’ve learned but also how you’ve learned it. Reflect on whether you’ve truly approached learning experiences with an open mind.
Learn from Others: Remember that everyone has something to teach you. Engage with people from different backgrounds, cultures, and expertise areas. Listen more than you speak and approach each conversation with the intent to learn.
Let Go of the Need to Be an Expert: In a world that prizes expertise, it can be freeing to not know—and to admit it. There’s power in acknowledging your limitations and seeking to overcome them through new learning.

Adopting a beginner’s mind enriches your experiences and engagements. It fosters creativity, reduces stress from having to always have the right answer, and makes life more enjoyable and interesting. More importantly, it helps build deeper connections with others by appreciating their unique perspectives and experiences without judgment.

The practice of Shoshin offers a refreshing escape from the know-it-all mindset that can sometimes stifle our personal and professional growth. Like the Zen master's overflowing teacup, our minds too can spill over with preconceptions and missed opportunities for learning. By choosing to empty our cups, we open ourselves up to the rich, diverse knowledge that life has to offer. So, the next time you face a familiar situation, pause and consider approaching it with a beginner’s mind. You might be surprised by what you discover.

Learning from Others

Tue, 25 Jun 2024 12:30:00 GMT

During a break between semesters at law school, I decided to visit a friend living in Hawaii. She had a roommate whose boyfriend was stationed on the island as a member of the armed forces. Despite my friend's warning that the boyfriend and I might not find much common ground due to our vastly different interests, the weekend turned out to be an enlightening experience in the unexpected power of simply listening.

The moment we arrived, the stage was set for what my friend believed would be a weekend of polite nods and forced conversations. Instead, it unfolded into a series of deep and engaging discussions between the boyfriend and me. He shared his experiences in the military, including his time serving in Iraq, which were both foreign and fascinating to me. As he recounted his stories, I found myself completely engrossed, not by the thrill of the tales themselves, but by the broader perspectives they offered on courage, camaraderie, and the complex nature of human conflict.

Throughout the weekend, our conversations never waned. My friend was bewildered by how well we got along, given her assumption that we had "nothing to talk about." When we parted ways, she asked, "Why did you hit it off? You had nothing to talk about." I replied, "Maybe not, but I had everything to listen to." This response encapsulated a personal epiphany about the nature of learning and interaction.

My approach that weekend, and indeed one that I strive to embody at my best, is inspired by Ralph Waldo Emerson's insight: “In my walks, every man I meet is my superior in some way, and in that I learn from him.” This philosophy highlights a fundamental truth about human interactions: everyone has something to teach us if we are willing to listen. This attitude of openness and curiosity not only enriches our knowledge but also enhances our relationships.

By choosing to listen rather than speak, I not only learned about military life but also about resilience and the human spirit under extreme circumstances. The stories shared were not just narratives; they were lessons in life, wrapped in personal experiences. This encounter reminded me that when we talk, we are only repeating what we already know; but when we listen, we have the potential to learn something new.

This experience also taught me a crucial lesson about social interactions. Often, we might think that to be interesting or to connect with someone, we need to impress them with our stories or insights. However, true connection often comes from being a good listener, from showing genuine interest in another's experiences and thoughts. People appreciate when they are heard and understood, and this appreciation can bridge gaps between the most diverse of backgrounds.

Furthermore, adopting a stance of humility and curiosity can transform our interactions and our perceptions of the world. Judging no one and respecting the unique experiences and expertise of others can lead to richer, more rewarding conversations and relationships. This openness is not just a social skill but a comprehensive approach to life that encourages continuous learning and growth.

Reflecting on that weekend in Hawaii, I realize how it has shaped my approach in both personal and professional contexts. The ability to listen—to clients, to colleagues, to the complete strangers—is invaluable. The insights gained from listening can inform better strategies, foster empathy, and lead to more effective problem-solving.

I won’t pretend that I always maintain this mindset since that trip to Hawaii, though I wish I did. However, I recognize that I like myself so much more when I approach an interaction with the mindset that I have something to learn. That opens me up to infinite possibilities for growth.

By listening more than we speak, we not only enrich our understanding of the world but also endear ourselves to others. It's a simple strategy for a more interesting and insightful life, and as I can attest from firsthand experience, it makes for unforgettable conversations and connections that might otherwise have been missed.

Letting Go

Tue, 18 Jun 2024 12:30:00 GMT

Have you ever found yourself ruminating over a mistake or a missed opportunity (i.e., are you a human being)? Perhaps you replayed a moment of anger or regret, or maybe you beat yourself up over not sticking to your diet or skipping the gym. We've all been there, caught in the relentless grip of our past actions. It’s an all-too-human experience to dwell on our failures and shortcomings, but there’s a significant difference between learning from the past and wallowing in it.

When we wallow in our past, we're not just recalling events; we're chaining ourselves to them. It's like watching the same bad movie repeatedly, hoping the ending will change — but it never does, nor can it. This repetitive cycle can be destructive, fostering feelings of guilt, shame, and inadequacy that can prevent us from moving forward.

Turning Reflection into Action

Reflecting on the past is not inherently negative. In fact, it can be a powerful tool for personal growth. The key is to use reflection constructively. Ask yourself: Why did I slip up? What triggered that response? How can I prepare better next time? By analyzing our actions and their outcomes, we can extract valuable lessons that help us improve.

One of the most empowering shifts we can make is to focus on being the person we aspire to be, right now. Not tomorrow, not next week, and certainly not as a New Year's resolution. The idea of "becoming" can often be a trap — a perpetual state of inadequacy where you’re always reaching but never arriving.

"Tomorrow" is just another word for "not right now." The truth is, the only moment you ever truly have is now. The past, with all its mistakes, is gone. The future is not guaranteed. What remains is the present moment and the choices you make in it.

Let the Past Be Your Teacher, Not Your Jailor

When reflecting on the past, think of it as consulting a wise teacher. They say it is better to learn from other’s mistakes. Learning from the past is just this. The past us is someone else. It is not the us of right now. What can we learn from that person and his or her experiences? This teacher can show you where you stumbled, but more importantly, it can illuminate where you can stand stronger next time. The past should not be a shadow that darkens your present actions but a light that guides them.

Consider this: every moment is an opportunity to be great. If you're always waiting for the perfect conditions to manifest the best version of yourself, you’ll likely find yourself stuck in a cycle of delays. Greatness doesn’t come from the conditions around you; it emerges from the decisions you make and the actions you take, regardless of circumstances.

To truly embrace the present, start small. Choose one aspect of your "ideal self" and live it today. Whether it’s practicing patience, choosing a healthier meal, or setting aside time for personal reflection, each small action is a step towards becoming the person you aspire to be. Over time, these small steps will build on one another, transforming your life in profound ways.

Learning from the past without wallowing in it requires a delicate balance. It requires being honest with yourself about your failures, yet also compassionate enough to forgive yourself and move forward. Each day, actually each moment is a new canvas, a fresh opportunity to paint with brighter, bolder strokes. Let go of yesterday’s errors, embrace today’s possibilities, and watch as your future unfolds with renewed promise and potential.

Lifelong Learning: A Pathway to Mastery

Tue, 11 Jun 2024 12:30:00 GMT

In an ever-evolving world, the quest for knowledge is unending. Lifelong learning, a term that transcends the traditional classroom boundaries, encompasses a continuous engagement in acquiring and applying knowledge and skills in the context of personal interests, professional development, and self-discovery. It is a journey that promises not just intellectual fulfillment but also a robust defense against the cognitive decline associated with aging. As John Maynard Keynes reportedly remarked, "When the facts change, I change my mind - what do you do, sir?” This ethos of adaptability and openness to new evidence underpins the essence of lifelong learning.

Lifelong learning is an expansive concept. It includes formal education and extends to the lessons learned through experiences, hobbies, relationships, and introspection. This approach to learning has comprehensive benefits: it fuels personal growth by challenging us to develop new skills and deepen our understanding of the world; it fosters professional advancement through an ongoing engagement with industry trends and innovation; and significantly, it contributes to our health by keeping our minds active and agile, thereby delaying the onset of dementia and improving overall mental well-being.

Neuroscience tells us that learning can significantly impact our brain's health. Engaging in new learning activities promotes neuroplasticity—the brain's ability to form new neural connections throughout life. This plasticity is not just theoretical; studies have shown a correlation between lifelong learning and a delayed onset of dementia symptoms, underscoring the tangible cognitive benefits of continually challenging our minds.

Adopting a learner's mindset requires an open mind, an appreciation for the journey of not knowing, and a willingness to reevaluate one's understanding as new information becomes available. This mindset is not about accumulating facts but embracing the process of discovery and the joy that comes with it. It is about cultivating a sense of excitement and opportunity in the face of the unknown and remaining agile and responsive as the facts and the world around us change.

How, then, do we engage in lifelong learning effectively? The answer lies in diversifying our learning methods—blending formal education with informal learning opportunities such as online courses (Mandarin through Duolingo is my daily go-to), books, travel, and hands-on experiences. Building a habit of learning involves integrating these practices into our daily routines, dedicating time each day or week to develop a new skill or expand our knowledge. Engaging with a community of learners, whether through clubs, workshops, or online forums, can enrich this journey by allowing us to share insights and challenges, further enhancing our learning experience.

Despite its benefits, lifelong learning can seem daunting. Time constraints, fear of failure, and feeling overwhelmed are common barriers. However, these obstacles can be overcome with patience, realistic goal-setting, and the support of a community. Embracing small, consistent steps and celebrating progress, however minor, can keep us on the path to continual growth and discovery.

True lifelong learners actively seek new challenges and remain open to change, viewing each day as an opportunity to learn something new. This adaptability is not just a skill but a form of resilience, preparing us to navigate life's uncertainties with grace and curiosity. The humility of lifelong learners, reminiscent of Pierre-Auguste Renoir's reflection on his deathbed—"I think I’m beginning to learn something about it"—serves as a poignant reminder that mastery is not a final state but an ongoing journey.

Our days are numbered, but the opportunities for learning are limitless. Embracing lifelong learning as a philosophy rather than a mere activity can transform the way we live, work, and think. It encourages us to view each day not as a series of tasks to be completed but as a canvas for exploration, growth, and discovery. By actively seeking out and embracing these learning opportunities, we not only enrich our lives but also contribute to a legacy of curiosity and knowledge that transcends our limited time.

As we contemplate the endless possibilities for growth and understanding, let us commit to making the most of every day through the pursuit of lifelong learning. Let us be inspired by the masters, by the curiosity that drove Renoir to see the beginning of understanding in his final days, and strive to embody that same spirit of endless inquiry and openness. In doing so, we ensure that our days, however numbered, are lived to their fullest, marked by a relentless pursuit of knowledge, understanding, and, ultimately, wisdom.

Embracing Discomfort: The Uncomfortable Path to Growth and Well-Being

Tue, 04 Jun 2024 12:30:00 GMT

Discomfort, though often avoided, is the crucible through which personal growth and development are forged. This concept is not limited to the physical realm, as in weightlifting or fasting, but extends deeply into our mental and emotional landscapes. Understanding and embracing discomfort, much like the strain of muscles in exercise or the hunger pangs of fasting, can lead to profound health benefits, both physically and mentally.

The journey through discomfort is akin to weightlifting for the soul. Just as our muscles require stress to grow stronger, our mental and emotional resilience is built through the challenges and discomforts we face. The health benefits of fasting—a practice that involves deliberate discomfort—mirror this truth on a physical level, demonstrating that our bodies and minds are designed not for constant ease, but for the occasional stress that sparks growth and vitality.

Ginni Rometty, the former CEO of IBM, on a podcast with Adam Grant, highlighted the value of embracing discomfort, associating it with learning and growth. She pointed out that feeling nervous about tackling complex and difficult projects is a positive sign, a precursor to learning and improvement. This perspective shifts our understanding of discomfort from something to be avoided to a signpost towards potential growth and success.

Rometty shares:

The biggest thing I could leave you with is that thought of embrace discomfort because it means you’re learning something. So, I would be hungry to get on more and more complex and difficult projects. It would become a sign that, yes, the more nervous I get that’s so good because at the other end something good comes out of it. It’s what led me to all my preparation in life, it’s all because oh my god if it’s something I didn’t know and now I know something oh, I’m better each time. I would go from being afraid of change to looking for change. When I wasn’t nervous [I would start to get nervous]…growth and comfort will never coexist.

She then asks Adam: “When have you ever learned the most? How did you feel?"

Adam responds: "Usually, uncomfortable."

Rommety closes: "If you can do that, you’ll be surprised where it can take you."

Similarly, Marcus Aurelius, a Roman Emperor and a Stoic philosopher, recognized the importance of confronting and being open to change and challenges. In his personal journal he reminded himself: “If anyone can prove and show to me that I think and act in error, I will gladly change it — for I seek truth, by which no one has ever been harmed. The one who is harmed is the one who abides in deceit and ignorance.”

His writings emphasize the pursuit of truth and the willingness to change one’s mind upon encountering better evidence or reasoning. This openness to being proven wrong, to embracing discomfort in the pursuit of growth, was as vital for a Roman Emperor as it is for us today.

Gratitude practices highlight another aspect of this journey. The act of expressing gratitude, even when it feels forced, can initiate a transformation within our brains, leading us to genuinely feel more grateful over time. This is not about deluding ourselves into feeling thankful but about engaging in a practice that reshapes our mental landscape, turning forced acknowledgment into genuine appreciation.

However, embracing discomfort is not a one-time effort but a consistent practice, a daily commitment to growth and health. It requires us to push beyond the temporary discomfort of a new exercise regimen or the initial struggle of adopting healthier eating habits. It's about the long-term benefits that come from continuous effort, from consistently choosing the harder path that leads to growth.

The interconnection of mental and physical health cannot be overstated; they are two sides of the same coin. The discipline of regularly challenging ourselves, whether through physical exercise, mental puzzles, or emotional vulnerability, strengthens our overall health. It's a reminder that health is not merely the absence of disease but the presence of a robust system capable of adapting, growing, and thriving in the face of life's inevitable challenges.

All to say, the path to true health—both mental and physical—is paved with discomfort. It's through the deliberate engagement with challenges, the consistent practice of stepping outside our comfort zones, that we find growth, resilience, and ultimately, a deeper sense of well-being. Like the successful CEOs and Stoics, we can learn not just to endure discomfort but to embrace it as a catalyst for personal development and a healthier, more fulfilled life.

Use, Don't Spend

Tue, 28 May 2024 12:30:00 GMT

Arthur Schopenhauer once said, “Ordinary people think merely how they shall spend their time; a man of any talent tries to use it.” This distinction between spending and using time is profound and merits a deeper exploration, especially in our fast-paced world where the 24 hours in a day seem to slip through our fingers like grains of sand. The way we approach these hours can fundamentally alter the trajectory of our lives, our sense of fulfillment, and our impact on the world.

At first glance, the difference between spending and using time might seem merely semantic, but the implications are vast. To spend time implies a certain passivity, an allowance for the hours to flow by without intentional direction. In contrast, to use time is to wield it with purpose, to apply it towards goals, growth, and meaningful experiences. It acknowledges time as the finite resource it truly is.

Each day, we're alloted the same 24 hours. There's a comfort in the regularity of this allotment, lulling us into a sense of infinite tomorrows. Yet, this mindset is a trap. It encourages procrastination, the postponement of dreams, and the squandering of potential. The stark reality is that today’s 24 hours, once gone, are irrevocably lost to us. Moreover, the assumption of an endless succession of tomorrows ignores the inherent uncertainty of life. Every day carries the possibility, however slight, that it might be our last. This perspective doesn't mean living in a constant state of anxiety over missed opportunities but, rather, adopting a mindset of thoughtful intentionality in how we use our time.

Recognizing the value of our time is only the beginning. The crucial next step is determining how best to use this precious resource. It's tempting to look for a universal blueprint, a one-size-fits-all approach to maximizing our days. However, such a notion quickly falls apart under scrutiny. Our lives, influenced by unique passions, responsibilities, and circumstances, demand personalized strategies for time use.

So, how do we navigate this?

Reflection : Begin with introspection. What brings you joy? What are your goals? Understanding what truly matters to you is the foundation upon which you can build a meaningful approach to using your time.
Prioritization : Once you've identified what's important, the next step is to prioritize. Not all goals and activities hold equal weight, and recognizing this allows you to allocate your time more effectively. This step often involves making tough choices and learning to say no to lesser priorities.
Planning : With your priorities in mind, start planning how to use your time. This doesn’t mean micromanaging every minute, but rather, setting aside time for the things that are most important to you. Flexibility is key; the unexpected is a part of life, and plans should accommodate this.
Action and Adjustment : Implement your plan, but remain open to reevaluation and adjustment. What works one month or year may not the next. Life is dynamic, and our use of time should be too.
Reflection (Revisited) : Periodically, return to reflection. Are you closer to your goals? Are you more fulfilled? This cyclical process ensures that your use of time evolves with you.

In applying this structure, it’s essential to embrace both the productive and the restorative value of time. Time spent resting, with loved ones, or in leisure is not wasted; it's an investment in our well-being and, by extension, in our capacity to pursue our goals with vigor.

This exploration of how to use time wisely is more than an exercise in efficiency; it's a call to live more fully, with greater awareness and appreciation for the fleeting nature of our existence. Schopenhauer's distinction between spending and using time challenges us to elevate our daily choices from the mundane to the meaningful.

As we embark on this journey of intentional time use, we unlock the potential for growth, satisfaction, and impact. The aim is not to fill every moment with activity but to ensure that our time is infused with value and purpose. This pursuit is deeply personal and continuously evolving. By adopting a mindset of using rather than spending our time, we step into a more engaged and intentional existence, one where each day is not just passed but lived.

Choosing Sunshine

Tue, 21 May 2024 12:30:00 GMT

You know how Voltaire once said, "The Most Important Decision You Will Ever Make Is to Be in a Good Mood"? Well, I decided to give that idea a shot and see where it took me. It's been quite the ride, honestly. I've been trying to match what's going on inside my head with how I act on the outside, especially when it comes to staying upbeat. It's been a mix of ups and downs, figuring out how to keep my spirits high even when life wants to do the opposite.

Each morning, during my meditation, I focus on a simple yet powerful mantra: "Choose to be happy. Choose to be in a good mood." This practice involves visualizing myself facing challenges while maintaining my composure and a positive outlook, imagining myself staying in a good mood no matter what.

However, transitioning from meditation to the day's activities often reveals a gap between my intentions and reality. The serene mood cultivated on my cushion can quickly dissipate when faced with the day's first challenge. This experience highlights a crucial insight: merely intending to be in a good mood doesn't always translate into maintaining one throughout the day, or even the first few hours of the day.

This realization prompted me to consider the importance of accountability in bridging the gap between my intentions and my actions. We often judge ourselves by our intentions, but the world judges us by our actions. Therefore, I started to share my goal of maintaining a positive mood with those close to me, like my daughter, asking them to gently remind me when my actions don't match my intentions.

Adopting this approach has been a journey, one that involves recognizing and modifying long-standing behavioral patterns. It's a process that doesn't yield immediate results; developing new habits and maintaining a positive outlook requires consistent effort and patience, at least for me.

As I continue on this path, I'm continuously reminded that personal growth is an ongoing process. Sharing this journey, with its challenges and strategies for overcoming them, offers a glimpse into the complexities of striving for personal improvement. It's not just about aspiring to stay positive; it's about taking concrete steps towards becoming the best version of ourselves.

Reflecting on my experiences, I've become acutely aware of how our everyday decisions shape our sense of well-being and influence our interactions. Opting to stay in a good mood sounds straightforward, yet its impact is far-reaching, affecting not just how I feel but also how I connect with others. Whether I manage to live up to this choice or sometimes miss the mark, it's clear that striving for consistency in this area can deeply enrich my life and the life of those I interact with.

Are there goals or intentions you find challenging to maintain consistently? How have you managed to align your actions more closely with your intentions? While we each navigate our unique paths, sharing the lessons we've learned can make our journeys richer and more rewarding. Let's learn from one another, embracing the insights and breakthroughs that come from our shared experiences. The journey is a long one. It’s certainly better with traveling companions.

Embracing Change: Finding Gratitude in Life's Transitions

Tue, 14 May 2024 12:30:00 GMT

Change, a constant and inevitable force, shapes our lives in myriad ways. It can manifest in the smallest routines or sweep through our lives like a tidal wave, bringing about major shifts. While it's natural to view change with a hint of apprehension, there's an undeniable beauty and opportunity in these moments of transition. Embracing change, rather than resisting it, can open up a world of possibilities, allowing us to grow, learn, and discover new facets of ourselves. From the subtle change in our daily habits to significant life events, each alteration in our journey is a chance to embrace new experiences and cultivate a sense of gratitude for the dynamic tapestry of life.

Think about a caterpillar's transformation into a butterfly – a profound change that requires a period of vulnerability inside the cocoon. Similarly, we often find ourselves cocooned by our circumstances, unsure of what comes next. But it's in these moments, when we feel most confined, that the potential for growth is the greatest.

When facing change, it's easy to focus on what we've lost or what's become more difficult. However, shifting our perspective to what this change brings can make a world of difference. This is where gratitude comes in. Gratitude isn't just about being thankful for the good things; it's also about finding something to appreciate in the midst of upheaval.

For instance, relocating to a new city can be stressful, with the hassle of moving, settling into a new job, and finding your way around unfamiliar streets. But this change also brings new people into your life, new cultures to explore, and perhaps a new favorite coffee shop or park. Embracing these positive aspects can transform the experience from one of stress to one of adventure and growth.

Every change – desired or not – is an opportunity for personal growth. It forces us out of our comfort zones, challenging us to adapt, learn, and become more resilient. This growth isn't always comfortable, but it's incredibly rewarding.

A sudden job change might seem daunting at first. I am going through this firsthand as I write this! But it can also be the push you need to acquire new skills or even to discover a career path more aligned with your passions and values. What in one frame of mind can appear as a setback can in another be seen as the catalyst for a more fulfilling professional life.

It's important to acknowledge that adapting to change isn't about pretending that everything is perfect. It's okay to feel overwhelmed or uncertain. The key is to balance these feelings with a sense of hope and optimism about what's to come.

Investing the time to work on our mindset, whether through therapy, meditation, journaling, or any of a multitude of options we have available to us, can be incredibly helpful during times of change. They allow us to stay grounded and present, reducing anxiety about the future and regret about the past. These practices remind us that, while we can't control everything that happens to us, we can control our reactions and attitudes.

Change is a constant in life, but it doesn't have to be a negative experience. By embracing change with gratitude and viewing it as an opportunity for growth, we can navigate life's transitions with resilience and optimism. So, the next time you're faced with a significant change, remember the butterfly. It's in the most transformative moments that we often find our true colors, as well as our hidden potential to truly take flight.

Get Out of Their Heads

Tue, 07 May 2024 12:30:00 GMT

In writing " Get Out of My Head ," I embarked on a journey to untangle the complex web of thoughts, influences, and self-imposed narratives that often dictate our lives. The essence of the book was a call to action, urging readers to reclaim the mental and emotional space often occupied by the opinions, expectations, and behaviors of others, as well as by our own alternate selves. This practice of mental and emotional decluttering is not just a one-time cleanse but a continuous journey towards self-improvement and personal growth. As much as I've preached and worked to practice this philosophy myself, I've come to realize there's another dimension to this mental tussle — the space we occupy in other people's minds.

The era of social media and the ubiquity of personal branding have made it almost impossible not to ponder over how we are perceived by others. Our digital footprints, intentionally or not, craft images of who we are, influencing how we are seen in the vast social expanse. The value and esteem others attribute to us can, unfortunately, become a mirror reflecting our self-worth, often distorting our perception of self-value. This external validation, or the lack thereof, can tether our happiness to a fragile and fleeting metric.

The realization that not everyone spends their time thinking about us is both humbling and liberating. I recall reading David Foster Wallace's "Infinite Jest" in high school, where he mentioned, "You'll stop caring what people think about you when you realize how seldom they do." This notion struck a chord with me, underscoring the universality of self-absorption and the limited bandwidth we have for others. This sentiment wasn't new, as it echoed the wisdom of Eleanor Roosevelt and even Arthur Schopenhauer before her. Schopenhauer's poignant observation that "other people’s heads are a wretched place to be the home of a man’s true happiness" feels particularly resonant in today's digital age.

With platforms designed to capture and monopolize our attention, the currency of likes, views, and comments has inflated the value we place on being in others' thoughts. The influencer culture epitomizes this shift, turning the quest for others' attention into a full-time occupation. Yet, the frequency of our thoughts occupying others' minds does little to serve our genuine happiness or self-fulfillment. Schopenhauer's wisdom remains a guiding light, reminding us that seeking happiness in others' perceptions is a futile endeavor.

So, how do we navigate this landscape where our mental real estate is so easily invaded by thoughts of how we're perceived by others? The answer lies in a deliberate practice of detachment and mindfulness. Detaching from the need for external validation requires us to cultivate a strong sense of self that is anchored in our values, beliefs, and personal achievements rather than the fleeting opinions of others. It involves embracing our authentic selves and finding contentment in our personal journey, irrespective of public acclaim or criticism.

Mindfulness plays a crucial role in this process. By being present and aware of our thoughts and feelings, we can recognize when we're slipping into the trap of seeking validation from outside sources. This awareness allows us to refocus on our inner voice and priorities, steering us back to a path of self-reliance and genuine self-esteem.

Creating spaces for self-reflection and engaging in activities that reinforce our self-worth independent of external feedback can fortify our mental and emotional resilience. Whether through journaling, meditation, or pursuing passions that fulfill us, these practices can help us build a sanctuary within ourselves, impervious to the transient opinions of the external world.

In essence, the journey to "Get Out of Their Heads" is about recalibrating our focus from an outward gaze to an inward exploration. It's about recognizing that while we may not control the narratives constructed about us in the digital ether, we hold the power to define our worth and happiness from within. As we navigate the complexities of modern life, let us remember that the only headspace worth cultivating is our own, where our true happiness and self-worth reside. This internal sanctuary, once fortified, becomes the bedrock of our resilience, creativity, and authenticity, enabling us to live fully, unencumbered by the shadows cast by others' perceptions.

The Six-Year-Old and Her Great-Grandfather

Tue, 30 Apr 2024 12:30:01 GMT

In a world that seems to spin faster with each passing day, the pace of change has become a constant topic of discussion, reflection, and sometimes, concern. Theodor Geisel, better known as Dr. Seuss, once remarked, “At age 6 a child has seen more of life than his great grandfather when he died at the age of 90.” Born 120 years ago, Geisel's observation was astute in his era, a period that witnessed the transformation from horse-drawn carriages to automobiles, the dawn of space exploration, the unveiling of nuclear power, the discovery of DNA, and the nascent stages of the digital revolution. When Geisel passed away in 1991, he had lived through changes that were, at the time, unimaginable to previous generations.

Fast forward to today, and the pace of change Geisel found dizzying has only accelerated, propelled forward by the digital revolution he saw in its infancy. The 6-year-old child of Geisel's statement now wields more computing power in her hands than all of NASA during the moon landings—a fact that underscores the monumental shift in access to information and technology. With the advent of AI, that same child can interact with machines in ways that mimic the creativity once thought exclusive to humans, generating Seuss-like rhymes and stories on demand.

This rapid pace of technological advancement is not merely a matter of more gadgets and faster communications. It represents a fundamental shift in the way children perceive and interact with the world. They are the first generation for whom digital technology is not an added layer to their reality but a foundational component of it. They are not just digital natives; they are social media natives, AI natives, in a landscape where the implications of such immersion are still being understood.

The COVID-19 pandemic has further shaped this generation's experience, altering their perspectives on socialization and education. Many of them began their schooling in a virtual environment, a situation that has no historical precedent and whose long-term effects on development and social skills are yet to be fully grasped.

Yet, amidst this whirlwind of change, it's crucial to remember that not everything shifts with the tide of technology. Reflecting on my own family, as today (as I write, not publish) marks what would have been my grandfather's birthday, I'm reminded of the lessons he imparted that remain timeless. My daughter, now 8, has witnessed and experienced things in her short life that her great-grandfather could scarcely have imagined. But the values he held dear—hard work, compassion, connection, listening, and the importance of lifelong learning—are as relevant today as they were in his time.

These enduring principles serve as a counterbalance to the rapid pace of change. They remind us that while the tools and technologies at our disposal evolve, the core of what it means to be human does not. As we navigate this ever-changing landscape, it's essential to impart these values to the younger generation, ensuring they grow not just as consumers of technology but as thoughtful, empathetic individuals.

The challenge, then, is to embrace the pace of change while holding onto the timeless truths that bind us. It's about finding balance in a world where the only constant is change itself. For my daughter, and for all children growing up today, the task is to navigate a world vastly different from that of their ancestors. Yet, the hope is that they can draw on the wisdom of the past to guide them through the uncertainties of the future.

As we ponder the reality of children living today, we must acknowledge that we are witnessing a unique moment in human history. The pace of change is unparalleled, but so are the opportunities for learning, growth, and innovation. By fostering a sense of curiosity, resilience, and compassion in the next generation, we can help them thrive in this dynamic environment. And perhaps, in doing so, we can learn from them as well, seeing the world anew through their eyes, enriched by the possibilities that lie ahead.

In this journey, the wisdom of age and the innovation of youth are not at odds but are complementary forces. Together, they can forge a future that honors the past while embracing the unknown. As we marvel at the rapid changes around us, let's also cherish the enduring values that guide us, ensuring that while much changes, the essence of what it means to lead a meaningful life remains the same.

Embracing Your Inner Weird

Tue, 23 Apr 2024 12:30:00 GMT

In a world that increasingly prizes conformity, embracing your inner "weirdness" might just be the secret sauce to living a healthier, happier, and more authentic life. This concept isn't new, but its importance has been magnified in our digital age. Paul Graham, founder of the famous Y Combinator program for startups, touched on this theme back in 2010 in a prescient blog post about the dangers of addiction in modern society. At a time when smartphones were not as ubiquitous as they are today, and the science behind making apps addictive was not as advanced, Graham had the foresight to recognize the dangers of internet addiction specifically. He wrote: "That's why I don't have an iPhone, for example; the last thing I want is for the Internet to follow me out into the world."

Fast forward to today, and Graham's insights seem almost prophetic. The digital landscape has evolved dramatically, with smartphones becoming nearly indispensable extensions of ourselves and social media platforms using behavioral science to hook us more effectively. This has significant implications, especially for young users. Research has shown that the earlier children get smartphones, the more adverse effects it has on their mental health in adulthood. Yet, the societal pressure to conform, to not deny our children what "all of their friends" have, creates a dilemma for parents who wish to protect their children from these potential harms.

Graham argues that as society becomes better at creating addictive products, the less desirable it becomes to be considered "normal" by its standards, is more relevant than ever. He wrote: “You can probably take it as a rule of thumb from now on that if people don't think you're weird, you're living badly.” This perspective is a powerful antidote to the pervasive pressure to conform.

Reflecting on my own experiences, I've come to see the value in diverging from the norm. For instance, upon realizing the absence of a "healthy" dose of alcohol, I reduced my already low intake to virtually nothing. Learning about the detrimental effects of disrupting my sleep pattern led me to adopt a more consistent sleep schedule, despite it being contrary to societal norms. Recognizing exercise as a vital component of health, I now prioritize it in my daily routine, building my days around it rather than trying to just “fit it in.” And upon understanding the dangers of the Standard American Diet (SAD), I've become more mindful about how I fuel my body, even when it means going against the grain.

Adopting these practices has sometimes led to me being perceived as "weird" by others. There was a time when this might have bothered me, leading me to compromise on what I knew was better for my well-being. Not anymore. I've learned to value living well over the fear of being judged. This doesn't mean I believe I'm always right, but it does mean I'm committed to learning, growing, and not simply defaulting to the norms that surround me.

Graham's observation that if people don't think you're weird, you're likely living badly, serves as a powerful reminder of the importance of questioning societal norms and expectations. It's a call to examine the choices we make, the technologies we use, and the lifestyles we adopt, not through the lens of what's popular or conventional, but through what's actually beneficial for our health and happiness.

In embracing our "weirdness," we're not just rejecting societal norms for the sake of being contrarian. We're actively choosing to live in a way that prioritizes our well-being, our values, and our personal growth. This might mean making choices that are unpopular or misunderstood by others, but if these choices lead to a healthier, more fulfilling life, then undoubtedly, it's worth being a little weird.

As we navigate the complexities of modern life, with its endless opportunities for connection and distraction, Graham's message is a wonderful reminder. It encourages us to reflect on what it means to live well in an age where the allure of conformity is stronger than ever. It challenges us to consider that the path to a truly fulfilling life might not be found in following the crowd, but in the courage to be distinct, to be ourselves, even if that means being a little weird. In the end, it's not about rejecting technology or modern conveniences outright but about making conscious choices that align with our well-being and values.

So, let's celebrate our "weirdness." Let's make choices that might raise eyebrows but ultimately lead us to a healthier, more authentic existence. After all, in a world that's constantly trying to shape us, being weird might just be the most normal thing we can do.

The One Rule: Kindness

Tue, 16 Apr 2024 12:30:00 GMT

In an age where division and negativity often take the spotlight, the question arises: Can kindness truly be the catalyst for change? Dr. Paul Farmer, a paragon in the realms of medicine and humanitarianism, lived a life that shouted a resounding “Yes!” The Dean of Harvard Medical School once called him "the most important doctor in the world," a title Farmer earned through a legacy cemented in the power of compassionate action.

Although Dr. Farmer's extensive contributions to global health warrant an in-depth exploration ( for which I encourage readers invest the time to learn more ), the focus here is on a singular, profound lesson he championed: the practice of unconditional kindness. This principle was the bedrock of Partners In Health, the non-profit co-founded by Farmer. Jim Yong Kim, Farmer’s co-founder and later the president of the World Bank, crystallized the essence of their mission in his recollection: "Paul said, ‘Let’s start a nonprofit organization that has only one rule: Everyone has to be kind. We have to agree to practice unconditional kindness.'" This mandate, clear in its language, is revolutionary in its intent.

The concept of unconditional kindness is as ancient as it is enduring, finding echoes in the wisdom of history's greatest thinkers. Seneca, the Roman Stoic, declared millennia ago, "Wherever there is a human being, there is an opportunity for kindness." His words highlight kindness not just as a moral choice but as a timeless imperative that spans every culture and era. It’s a philosophy that invites us to find in every encounter an opening to extend our humanity.

Despite its clear virtues, unconditional kindness is a path seldom taken. Our grievances and the hurts we accumulate can misdirect us from this virtuous route. When wronged, we may find ourselves at a crossroads—lashing out in retaliation or nurturing bitterness within. Yet, it is precisely in these testing times that the essence of true kindness shines brightest. Choosing to be kind does not merely diminish the gloom of negativity; it nurtures our better selves and aligns us with our loftiest human potential.

Kindness is more than an ideal; it is a tangible, actionable guide for daily life. It implores us to rise above—to treat not only ourselves but also those who have wronged us with a spirit of generosity. The ripple effects of such a choice are profound: it builds empathy, bridges divides, and fosters a culture where compassion flourishes. Living kindness improves our own existence and nudges society toward a more benevolent collective future.

The real challenge lies not in acknowledging the merit of kindness but in steadfastly weaving it into the fabric of our everyday existence. This endeavor calls for intentional compassion, empathetic dialogue, and a heart generous in forgiveness. It does not ask us to turn a blind eye to injustice but to confront it in a manner that repairs rather than rends.

In embracing Dr. Farmer's legacy, we're invited to introspect on how we might infuse unconditional kindness into our own lives. His example prods us to transcend snap judgments and contemplate the lasting effects of our deeds. In an era quick to highlight discord and retribution, kindness emerges as a radical act of defiance, asserting that love and understanding possess a mightier force than animosity and apathy.

As we chart our own course through life's intricacies, let's anchor ourselves to the lesson of unconditional kindness—a lesson Dr. Farmer espoused with fervor. Let this principle navigate our interactions, shape our choices, and color our dreams. By doing so, we pay homage to his enduring spirit and contribute to crafting a reality that mirrors our noblest aspirations—a reality suffused with kindness, compassion, and a relentless commitment to the common good. Let’s start today. Let’s start right now.

The Illusion of "Not Having Time”

Tue, 09 Apr 2024 12:30:00 GMT

How often have you caught yourself saying, "I just don't have the time"? This phrase, almost a mantra in the modern world, is particularly echoed when it comes to taking care of our health. Whether it's fitting in a 30-minute workout, cooking a nutritious meal, ensuring we get those golden 8+ hours of sleep, catching up with friends, or sitting down for a few moments of meditation, the excuse is ready: "I don't have time." We acknowledge the importance of these activities, aware of the immediate and long-term benefits they hold for our well-being. We know that they can make today better and add years of health to our lives. Yet, we find ourselves trapped in this paradox of "not having time."

Reflecting on the words of the philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, we're reminded of the profound impact health has on our happiness: "...[N]ine-tenths of our happiness depends upon health alone. With health, everything is a source of pleasure; without it, nothing else, whatever it may be, is enjoyable; even the other personal blessings,—a great mind, a happy temperament—are degraded and dwarfed for want of it.…It follows from all this that the greatest of follies is to sacrifice health for any other kind of happiness, whatever it may be, for gain, advancement, learning or fame, let alone, then, for fleeting sensual pleasures. Everything else should rather be postponed to it." Schopenhauer's insight sheds light on a critical misjudgment many of us make: sacrificing our health in pursuit of other forms of happiness or success.

When we say "I don't have time," what we're really stating is that we've chosen to prioritize other aspects of our lives over our well-being. We're admitting to placing higher value on professional achievements, material gains, academic pursuits, or temporary indulgences above our own health. It's a declaration of our willingness to spend our most precious asset—our health—in exchange for these pursuits. But once attained, what value do these achievements hold if we're left in poor health? Would we trade any of these accomplishments for the vitality and wellness we've compromised along the way?

This realization brings us to a crossroads: recognizing that up until now, our neglect of health may have been a passive, unconscious decision, but moving forward, it becomes a conscious choice. With this awareness, the question then becomes, "What will you choose?"

Choosing health doesn't mean abandoning professional or personal goals. Instead, it invites us to rethink our daily schedules and priorities. It's about finding our own personal equilibrium and making time for activities that nourish our bodies and minds, alongside those that fulfill other aspects of our lives. Integrating simple health practices into our routines isn't just feasible; it's essential for sustaining our ability to pursue those other goals.

Consider the act of deprioritizing health as akin to spending your savings on fleeting pleasures, only to find yourself bankrupt of the very wealth that enables you to enjoy life to its fullest. It's a fool's bargain, as Schopenhauer would say. The consequences of such choices become apparent only when we're forced to confront the limitations imposed by compromised health. The irony is stark: in the pursuit of happiness and success, we often overlook the very foundation upon which these are built—our health.

This moment of realization is an opportunity for transformation. It's a chance to reassess our daily choices and the values they reflect. By consciously making health a priority, we're not just investing in our present-day well-being; we're securing our future happiness and capacity to enjoy life's pleasures.

So, as we navigate the complexities of modern living, let's challenge the notion that we "don't have time" for health. Let's recognize it for what it truly is—a matter of priorities. Every day, we have 24 hours at our disposal. How we choose to allocate this time is a reflection of what we value most. By choosing health, we're not just adding days to our life; we're adding life to our days.

As we move forward, let's do so with the wisdom that prioritizing our health is not an act of sacrifice but one of profound self-respect and foresight. It's a choice that honors our body's needs, respects our mental well-being, and acknowledges the intrinsic link between health and happiness. Let's not wait for a wake-up call to remind us of what's truly important. The time to act is now. What choice will you make?

Making Versus Consuming: Finding Happiness in Creation

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 12:30:00 GMT

Historian Will Durant once said, "Let us ask the gods not for possessions, but for things to do; happiness is in making things rather than in consuming them.” This profound statement shines a light on an often-overlooked path to fulfillment. In a society hyper-focused on consumption, the joy of creation is a road less traveled but is perhaps the more scenic and likely route to happiness.

We live in a world where success and growth are measured by production numbers driven by consumer sentiment. The modern economy breathes through the lungs of advertising, urging us to crave more, desire more, and indeed, feel a pressing need for more. This insatiable hunger for consumption is not only confined to the physical realm of goods but spills over into the digital world of social media.

Social media platforms, designed to captivate our attention, have become synonymous with consumption. There's a burgeoning awareness of the mental health impacts that these platforms can have, leading some to advocate for deleting these apps entirely. But what if we shift our perspective? What if we view these tools not as platforms for passive consumption but as canvases for active creation?

Let’s consider social media as a tool for sharing and creating, rather than just for endless scrolling. If we were to change our habits from 95% consumption and 5% creation to a more balanced ratio, we might just find a significant positive shift in our mental health. Indeed, there might be a decrease in the revenue that these platforms make from advertising, and no doubt a dip in the number of followers and likes we receive. However, the question is, isn't this a worthwhile trade? To exchange something that we know can lead to dissatisfaction and unhappiness (excessive consumption) for something that could uplift and fulfill us (creation and making)?

The act of creating has intrinsic value; it provides a sense of accomplishment and autonomy. It allows us to express ourselves, to contribute rather than just take. And while the fruits of our labor may not always be as instantly gratifying as the dopamine hit from a 'like' or a 'follow', they are far more sustaining to our well-being. This isn't a new concept; throughout history, humans have found joy and purpose in making things with their hands, whether it be cooking, crafting, building, or writing.

Yet, our current economic model doesn't prioritize this innate need to create. Instead, it perpetuates a cycle of desire and dissatisfaction, where the things we own (or aspire to own) define our success and identity. This relentless pursuit of possessions can lead to a shallow existence, where the depth of our experiences is overshadowed by the breadth of our belongings.

As Durant suggests, happiness lies in "making things rather than in consuming them." Imagine if our main indicator for success wasn't consumption-based metrics, but rather the quality and impact of what we create. By shifting the focus from what we can acquire to what we can produce, we foster a culture of innovation and personal growth.

So, how do we start making this shift in our own lives? It begins with small, intentional actions. Dedicate time each day or week to a creative endeavor, whether it’s writing, painting, coding, gardening, or even curating content that can educate or inspire others. Create more than you consume on social media: share your projects, your learnings, and engage with the community in meaningful ways.

This isn't about becoming an influencer or gaining viral fame; it's about the process of creation itself. It's about the quiet satisfaction of seeing a project through from idea to reality. It's the pride in sharing knowledge, the joy of learning a new skill, and the community built through sharing these experiences. When we create, we contribute to a narrative larger than ourselves, we become part of a collective progress.

And when we talk about creation, it's not limited to what's traditionally seen as 'artistic' or 'creative' work. Innovation and creation can happen in any field – from science to business, from education to technology. Each of us has unique talents and interests that can be channeled into making something new or improving something existing. This process of creation doesn't just benefit us individually; it contributes to societal growth and progress.

In redefining our relationship with social media and the broader consumption-driven culture, we're not just enhancing our own well-being. We're participating in a larger cultural shift towards valuing creation over consumption. This shift is not just about personal happiness; it's about building a society that values each person's contribution, that finds richness in diversity of thought and innovation, and that measures success not in material accumulation but in shared progress and creativity.

To make this shift, we must be mindful of our habits and choices. It requires a conscious effort to break free from the passive consumption patterns that are so deeply ingrained in our daily lives. It involves asking ourselves whether our actions are adding value to our lives or merely filling a void. Are we engaging with content that enriches our understanding and inspires us to create, or are we mindlessly scrolling through an endless feed of distractions?

Let us remember Durant's words and embrace the joy of making. By doing so, we not only find happiness in our own lives but also contribute to a world where creation, innovation, and sharing are valued above mindless consumption. This is a world where success is measured not by what we take, but by what we give back – a world where each of us can truly make a difference.

Creativity Through Constraint: Embracing Limitations to Unlock Innovation

Tue, 26 Mar 2024 12:30:00 GMT

Have you ever noticed that sometimes the less you have, the more creative you become? It's a counterintuitive concept, but there's a certain magic in limitations that can ignite the most innovative solutions. This is the art of "creative limitation," a paradox where constraints become a canvas for creativity.

One incredible example is Theodor Geisel, whom most of us know as Dr. Seuss. Before the whimsical lands of Whoville and the Cat in the Hat, Geisel was an ad man bound by the strict confines of a Standard Oil contract. The limitations were so extreme he quipped that children's books were the only creative avenue left open to him. But even there, his initial works met with mediocre success. It was a vast universe of possibilities, yet his stories lacked impact. Only when he imposed stricter limits on his writing did he begin to weave the narratives we now cherish.

Consider the iconic "The Cat in the Hat." It sprung from a vocabulary list of merely 250 words, a restriction aimed at making reading delightful and educational for children. This constraint birthed the unique rhythm and repetition that became synonymous with Dr. Seuss. His book was more than a publication; it was a revolution in children's literature.

But Dr. Seuss didn't stop there. He took on a $50 bet to craft a story using just 50 words. The outcome? "Green Eggs and Ham," a book that not only became his all-time bestseller but also a cultural staple. Seuss's experiences remind us that creativity doesn't stem from abundance; rather, it's often summoned by scarcity. Every word was a battle, he said, yet through those battles emerged a creativity that would have been unfathomable with a blank check of options.

Dr. Seuss' plight illustrates a broader principle that applies well beyond the realm of children's books. It's the principle of creative limitation at work, which can be found in all sectors, including the stringent world of business and finance. Take, for instance, the investment approach advocated by Warren Buffett as described by his partner Charlie Munger. Buffett proposed a hypothetical scenario to students where their entire financial future depended on a limited number of investment punches—only twenty in a lifetime. Under such constraints, he argued, you'd ponder deeply about each decision, leading to significantly better outcomes. This metaphorical "20-slot punch card" embodies the essence of creative limitation in finance: with fewer choices, we're compelled to make more thoughtful, and often, more successful decisions.

So, why do constraints breed creativity? When options are limitless, the decision-making process can be hampered by the paradox of choice. Too many options can lead to decision fatigue, less satisfaction, and a stunted creative process. Limitations, however, force us to explore depths and angles we wouldn't otherwise consider. They push us to look at resources and solutions right under our noses, to make do and innovate with what we have. It's a mental model that turns scarcity into opportunity.

Take the tech industry, for example, where the 'minimum viable product' (MVP) concept thrives. Startups often launch products with just enough features to satisfy early adopters. This constraint is not just a budgetary consideration but a strategic one that encourages ongoing user feedback and iterative design—a process that can lead to more user-focused and innovative products than if they had aimed for a feature-complete product right out of the gate.

In the creative arts, limited palettes or genres can lead to new artistic movements. Haiku poetry, with its strict structure, has conveyed profound emotions and observations within a tight three-line framework. In music, artists have turned genre limitations into signature sounds that define eras. The blues, for instance, emerged from the depths of human experience with simple chord progressions, yet it has given rise to some of the most soul-stirring music in history.

Now, let’s bring this concept closer to home. Think about your own life and work. When you face resource constraints, instead of viewing them as a dead end, see them as a detour sign guiding you towards an unexpected, potentially more fruitful path. What if having less time, money, or manpower isn't a disadvantage but an impetus for innovation? It's a shift in perspective that could lead you to discover more efficient processes, novel ideas, or untapped markets.

The next time you find yourself wishing for 'more'—more resources, more team members, more budget—pause and reframe the challenge. Ask yourself: What can I achieve with what I already have? How can I turn these limitations into a strength? It’s within these constraints that you might find your most brilliant ideas waiting to be uncovered.

Reflect on the stories of Dr. Seuss and Warren Buffett. Their successes were not in spite of their constraints, but because of them. They harnessed the power of limitation to channel their focus and creativity, achieving results that were not just effective, but extraordinary.

Embrace your constraints. Let them be the catalyst that propels you to innovate and think outside the proverbial box. The struggle is real, but so is the potential for greatness on the other side of it. So, the next time you’re faced with “less” than you think you need, remember that it might just be the hidden opportunity for more—more creativity, more innovation, and perhaps, more success than you ever imagined.

And with that thought, I invite you to share your experiences. When did a limitation lead you to a creative breakthrough? How did constraint fuel your innovation? Share your stories; I'm eager to hear how you turned a less into a more.

The Art of Never Getting Used to This: A Journey of Appreciation and Wonder

Tue, 19 Mar 2024 12:30:00 GMT

In life, there's a profound truth we often overlook: nothing we have is guaranteed to stay forever. This realization, while sobering, isn't meant to be gloomy. Instead, it's a powerful reminder to cherish every moment, every relationship, and every breath we take. This is why I find a deliberate practice to “not get used to this” is helpful in two distinct but interconnected ways.

Firstly, there is the impermanence of life and our possessions. Everything we hold dear – our possessions, relationships, even life itself – has an uncertain tenure. The car we drive can break down, the heirloom we cherish can be lost, and relationships, as deep as they might be, can end. There's always a non-zero chance that today could be our last. But this isn't a call to despair; rather, it’s an invitation to appreciate the now. The transient nature of life reminds us to value what we have while we have it. It's about living in the present, not taking anything for granted, and understanding that each moment is a precious gift. By embracing this mindset, we transform our daily experiences into opportunities for gratitude and joy.

The second aspect of "not getting used to this" is about maintaining our sense of wonder and not becoming numb to the beauty that surrounds us. I learned this lesson in two profound ways. The first was during walks with my daughter when she was a toddler, experiencing her first autumn. For her, every fallen leaf was a source of fascination, a marvel of nature. While I had walked those paths countless times, seeing them through her eyes reminded me of the magic I had started to overlook. Each leaf became a symbol of the beauty that’s always been there, just waiting to be noticed.

The second lesson came when I moved into a new condo facing east, with a view of the spectacular sunrises over Ponce City Market in Atlanta. I remembered Laurie Santos's teachings in Yale’s “happiness class” about the hedonic treadmill – how today’s joys become tomorrow's norms, losing their initial luster. Determined not to let this happen, I made a conscious effort each morning to remind myself: “Don’t get used to this.” This practice of daily appreciation has stayed with me, a constant effort to see the world not as I’ve grown accustomed to, but with fresh eyes and a grateful heart.

Maintaining this mindset isn't always easy. We're wired to adapt to our surroundings, to normalize the extraordinary so we can efficiently navigate our world. But in doing so, we risk losing sight of the beauty and wonder that life offers us every day. The challenge, then, is to resist this automatic acclimation. It's about actively noticing and appreciating the things that bring us joy, no matter how small or routine they may seem.

As you go about your day, I encourage you to adopt this mindset. Look around you – really look. Notice the things that you might have started taking for granted. It could be the warmth of the sun on your face, the smile of a loved one, or the comfort of your home. Acknowledge these as the gifts they are. Challenge yourself to see the familiar in unfamiliar ways, much like a child discovering the world for the first time.

In doing this, we step off the hedonic treadmill. We stop allowing our joys to become mere table stakes in the game of life. Instead, we start to experience the richness of each moment, finding beauty and magic where we least expect it. This practice, this way of seeing the world, enriches not just our days but our entire lives.

As we journey through life, let's embrace this guiding principle: Resist the temptation of complacency. Don't allow the exceptional moments to fade into the mundane. Cultivate and nurture your sense of wonder—it's a precious gift. The world around us brims with beauty, enchantment, and moments that deserve our full appreciation and awe. By consciously practicing mindfulness, we elevate our daily experiences from mere existence to something richer, more vibrant, and deeply fulfilling. Remember the words of awe researchers David Yaden and Albert Garcia-Romeu: “Perhaps awe, while an ordinary response to the extraordinary, is also an extraordinary response to the ordinary." In essence, let's commit to seeking and savoring those awe-inspiring experiences, making each day a treasure trove of wonder and joy.

Embracing Boredom

Tue, 12 Mar 2024 12:15:00 GMT

A few years ago, I embarked on a journey to learn Mandarin. The motivation was simple yet profound: to converse with my daughter, Talulla, who had started learning the language in preschool. My learning tools were basic – an app and a brief trip to Shanghai for some real-world practice. Years later, I'm far from fluent, but the process has been rewarding, both as a bonding activity with Talulla and for the mental health benefits it offers, separate from the language acquisition itself.

Double Meaning

In my Mandarin studies, I stumbled upon a fascinating concept, one that might not be entirely accurate but is intriguing nonetheless. The word “Wúliáo” in Mandarin, as I understand it, means both “bored” and “boring.” So, when someone says “Wǒ wúliáo,” they are declaring, “I am bored,” and simultaneously admitting, “I am boring.” This duality, whether linguistically accurate or not, offers a profound reflection on the nature of boredom and our response to it.

This concept reminded me of a friend who moved to Bermuda around the same time as we did. She had an acquaintance who, despite the idyllic surroundings, declared herself bored within a week and promptly returned to New York. Meanwhile, my friend and I, enjoying the simple pleasures of a beach and playground with our children, couldn't fathom the idea of boredom in such a setting. This contrast brings to mind Arthur Schopenhauer’s observation: “An intellectual man in complete solitude has excellent entertainment in his own thoughts and fancies, while no amount of diversity or social pleasure, theatres, excursions, and amusements, can ward off boredom from a dullard.”

In today's world, where distractions are constantly at our fingertips, moments without external stimulation can quickly lead to boredom. Our instinctive reaction is to reach for our smartphones, our “third arm,” to escape this feeling. But in doing so, what are we really saying about ourselves? Are we inadvertently turning ourselves into the very embodiment of wúliáo – both bored and boring?

The Opportunity Within Boredom

Boredom, however, need not be a negative state. It can be an opportunity for introspection, creativity, and personal growth. When we find ourselves without external stimulation, it's a chance to delve into our “own thoughts and fancies,” as Schopenhauer puts it. It's a moment to explore the depths of our imagination, to reflect, and to discover interests and passions that lie dormant under the constant barrage of external stimuli.

The challenge, then, is to resist the immediate impulse to banish boredom with digital distractions. Instead, we can view these moments as a blank canvas for our creativity and curiosity. By embracing boredom, we can cultivate a rich inner world, one that is vibrant, engaging, and endlessly entertaining.

Boredom can also be a path to self-discovery. It can prompt us to question our interests, our goals, and our values. In the quiet of an unoccupied mind, we might find clarity about what truly matters to us, what brings us joy, and what we want to achieve in life.

The Art of Being Alone with Our Thoughts

Learning to be alone with our thoughts is an art. It requires practice and patience. Initially, it might feel uncomfortable, even unnerving. But with time, we can learn to appreciate these moments of solitude and the mental space they provide. They can become a source of strength, creativity, and peace.

In our digital age, where the temptation to escape into the virtual world is ever-present, mastering the art of dealing with boredom is more crucial than ever. It's about finding a balance between engaging with the world around us and nurturing our inner world. Maybe all we really need to “augment” our reality is to put down the devices that are taking us further from it.

The next time you find yourself without external stimulation, resist the urge to immediately reach for a screen. Instead, take a moment to explore your “own thoughts and fancies.” You might be surprised at the richness of your inner world and the joy that can come from simply being with your thoughts. Embracing boredom is not about resigning to dullness; it's about discovering the vibrant world that exists within us, waiting to be explored.

In doing so, we might just find that we are far from wúliáo – neither bored nor boring, but deeply engaged in the fascinating journey of self-discovery and personal growth.

The Siren Song of Busyness: Rethinking Our Pursuit of Productivity

Tue, 05 Mar 2024 13:15:00 GMT

In 1877, Robert Louis Stevenson observed, “Extreme busyness… is a symptom of deficient vitality,” and described people who are “scarcely conscious of living except in the exercise of some conventional occupation.” If this was a poignant observation in Stevenson's time, it is a deafening alarm in ours. Today, the standard response to "How are you?" has morphed into a badge of honor: "Busy! But good busy." But what of our modern fetishization of busyness and productivity? Does this relentless pursuit lead to fulfillment or merely to a hollow semblance of achievement?

The Cult of Productivity

Every year, countless books and articles are published, offering tips and tricks to boost productivity. The underlying message is clear: do more, and do it faster. But in this idolization of productivity, we must pause and ask: What exactly are we producing? Is it joy, happiness, or a positive impact? Or are we merely churning out more, without considering the value or purpose of our output?

Our society is fixated on the notions of 'more' and 'better.' But these terms are often left undefined, creating an endless race where the finish line keeps moving further away. What does 'more' mean, and 'better' in what sense? Are we improving the quality of our lives and those around us, or are we just accumulating more things, more responsibilities, and more stress?

The Cost of Constant Production

In our quest for productivity, we often overlook what we are sacrificing. The environmental impact of relentless consumption and production is evident, but there's also a more insidious cost: the erosion of our inner peace and equanimity. The constant pressure to perform and produce can lead to burnout, anxiety, and a pervasive sense of dissatisfaction. We need to ask ourselves: Is this trade-off worth it? Is this the life we consciously choose to lead?

There's a prevailing myth that being busy is synonymous with being productive. However, busyness often masks a lack of purposeful direction. It's easy to fill our days with tasks, meetings, and activities, giving us the illusion of productivity. But are these activities meaningful? Do they bring us closer to our goals, or are they just a way to fill time and give us a false sense of importance?

When we find ourselves compressed for time, our instinct is often to figure out how to fit more into our already crowded schedules. But perhaps the solution lies in the opposite direction. Maybe it's not about doing more but about doing less. It's about prioritizing what truly matters and letting go of the rest. This approach requires a radical shift in mindset, from valuing quantity to valuing quality.

In a culture that glorifies busyness, the idea of doing nothing can seem counterintuitive, even lazy. But there is immense power in stillness and in consciously choosing not to engage in the relentless cycle of production. Doing nothing can be an act of rebellion against the societal pressure to always be 'on.' It can be a space for reflection, for recharging, and for gaining clarity about what is genuinely important.

Instead of measuring our lives by the amount of work we do, we should measure them by the amount of meaning we derive from our actions. This shift in perspective can lead to a more fulfilling life, where our actions are aligned with our values and purpose. It's about finding joy in the journey, not just the destination.

Making a deliberate decision for less is not about settling for mediocrity. It's about making conscious choices about where to focus our energy and time. It's about understanding that our resources are finite and that spreading ourselves too thin diminishes our effectiveness and our ability to enjoy life.

Our society's fetishization of busyness and productivity warrants a critical reevaluation. Instead of mindlessly subscribing to the cult of busyness, we should question the true value of our actions. Are we enriching our lives and the lives of others, or are we just filling time? The next time you feel overwhelmed by the demands of life, consider what you can stop doing. Embrace the idea that less can be more and that sometimes, the best action is inaction. By doing so, we might just find the fulfillment and peace that constant busyness has promised but has never delivered.

Freedom in a World of Want

Tue, 27 Feb 2024 13:15:00 GMT

In a world inundated with consumerism, Socrates's profound observation, “How much there is in the world I do not want,” resonates more powerfully than ever. This sentiment was echoed in a recent conversation over coffee with a friend, where we delved into the concept of 'freedom' and its implications in our lives.

The Essence of Freedom

Our discussion began with personal anecdotes. I shared my experience of moving to Bermuda, a decision that epitomized my freedom to choose my life's path. Similarly, we reflected on the luxury of taking time in the middle of a busy day to engage in a meaningful conversation, free from the constant vigilance of our inboxes or the tyranny of the ticking clock. This freedom, we acknowledged, stemmed partly from privilege – a privilege we had actively worked to build through deliberate choices and actions.

My friend then shared the societal pressures he faces constantly, encapsulated in the relentless suggestions to upscale his lifestyle: joining exclusive clubs, enrolling his children in prestigious schools, living in certain neighborhoods, driving luxury cars, and staying at high-end hotels. This barrage of expectations highlighted a stark reality: our society often equates increased expenditure with enhanced status and happiness.

However, my friend found his sense of freedom not in the accumulation of wealth or possessions but in his ability to minimize fixed expenses. By consciously reducing financial obligations, he had crafted a life that prioritized freedom over material accumulation. This approach resonated with me and echoed the wisdom of Lao Tzu: “Need little, want less.”

The Consumer Culture Trap

Our conversation then shifted to the broader societal context – the consumer culture that engulfs us. Billions, perhaps trillions, are spent on advertising, subtly coaxing us into believing that happiness and fulfillment lie in the next purchase. This relentless push to want more, even things we never knew we needed, comes at a significant cost to our freedom – the freedom to pursue what genuinely fulfills us.

Wanting is an innate response, especially in an environment that constantly exposes us to new desires. However, this natural tendency comes with a price. It often leads to a cycle of endless pursuit, where satisfaction remains perpetually out of reach, and true freedom – the freedom to enjoy life's simple pleasures and make choices unencumbered by financial burdens – becomes a distant dream.

Reflecting on the wisdom of Socrates and Lao Tzu, it becomes evident that true freedom lies in the ability to discern between want and need. It's about recognizing that the relentless pursuit of material possessions often leads to a paradox: the more we acquire, the less free we become.

Every time we face the temptation to acquire something new, it's crucial to pause and reflect. Have we lived happily without this item so far? Is the cost of acquiring it – not just in monetary terms but in terms of our freedom – truly worth it? The act of clicking 'buy now' might seem liberating in the moment, but it's essential to consider whether this fleeting satisfaction is worth the long-term cost to our freedom.

The path to true freedom involves making conscious choices. It's about understanding that while we can't escape the consumer culture, we can choose how deeply we engage with it. It's about realizing that happiness and fulfillment often lie in experiences, relationships, and personal growth, rather than in the accumulation of material possessions.

The journey towards contentment and freedom is a personal one. It requires introspection and a willingness to challenge societal norms. It's about finding joy in simplicity and understanding that our worth is not defined by what we own but instead by who we are and the quality of our experiences.

The pursuit of freedom in a world driven by desire is a complex but rewarding journey. It involves understanding the difference between want and need, recognizing the traps of consumer culture, and making conscious choices that prioritize our true happiness and freedom. As we navigate this path in our modern world, let us remember the ancient wisdom of Socrates and Lao Tzu, and strive to find fulfillment in the richness of our experiences rather than in the accumulation of possessions. After all, the greatest freedom lies in the ability to live a life unburdened by unnecessary wants, a life where we can truly be present and enjoy the moments that matter most.

Health: The Foundation of a Fulfilling Life

Tue, 20 Feb 2024 13:15:00 GMT

Arthur Schopenhauer once profoundly stated, “Health so far outweighs all external goods that a healthy beggar is truly more fortunate than a king in poor health.” This quote resonates deeply in today's fast-paced world, where the pursuit of success often overshadows the fundamental importance of health. A recent conversation with a good friend highlighted this modern dilemma. He shared his two primary life objectives: being there for his children and fully actualizing his potential. Admirable goals, indeed, but at what cost?

The Cost of Neglecting Sleep

My friend, a paragon of health in many respects, meticulously manages his diet, exercises rigorously seven days a week, and invests in his mindset and social connections. However, he averages only about five hours of sleep per night. This oversight is not uncommon. Many of us, in our quest to excel in one area, often neglect others, especially sleep, which is a critical pillar of health.

The consequences of sleep deprivation are far-reaching. For instance, even a single night of poor sleep can increase the amount of beta-amyloid in our brain, a protein associated with Alzheimer's disease. This is just one example of how neglecting sleep can undermine our efforts in other health areas, potentially impeding our primary goals.

The Five Pillars of Health

Understanding and balancing the five pillars of health is crucial for a healthy, fulfilling life. These pillars are:

Nutrition: A balanced diet provides the energy and nutrients needed for optimal body function.
Exercise: Regular physical activity is essential for maintaining physical and mental health.
Sleep & Recovery: Adequate sleep and rest are vital for cognitive function, emotional well-being, and overall health.
Mindset & Stress Management: A positive mindset and stress management are key to coping with life's challenges.
Social Connection & Purpose: Strong social ties contribute to emotional support and overall well-being.

The Story of Many

My friend's story is not unique. It reflects a common narrative where individuals, in their pursuit of excellence in one area, often overlook other critical aspects of their health. This imbalance can lead to a decrease in the overall quality of life and healthspan – the period of life spent in good health.

Schopenhauer's comparison of a king in poor health and a healthy beggar is a powerful metaphor for our modern lives. It underscores the idea that health is a treasure far surpassing external achievements like wealth or status. We often chase these external goals, only to realize that we would readily trade them for good health when it's compromised.

So, where do we go from here?

The first step towards a healthier life is acknowledging the need for a balanced approach to health. It involves understanding the interdependence of the five pillars and recognizing that neglecting one can adversely affect the others.

Comprehending what a balanced approach to health entails is crucial. It's not just about excelling in one area, like diet or exercise, but ensuring that all five pillars are given due attention. This understanding is key to improving not just the length, but the quality of our lives.

The most challenging part is implementing and maintaining a balanced approach consistently. It requires discipline, awareness, and sometimes, a paradigm shift in how we view success and well-being.

A Mission to Support

Supporting individuals on this journey towards a balanced and healthy life is a mission I am deeply committed to. It's about guiding and helping others realize that health is not just one aspect of life, but the foundation upon which all other aspects rest.

Our health is indeed the most important aspect of our lives. It's the foundation upon which we build our dreams, aspirations, and daily experiences. As Schopenhauer wisely pointed out, the value of health far exceeds that of external achievements. It's time we start prioritizing our health, not as an afterthought, but as the cornerstone of a fulfilling life. If you ever need guidance or support in this journey, my mission is to assist you. Remember, a balanced approach to the five pillars of health is not just a choice, but a necessity for a life well-lived.

Deserving What You Want

Tue, 13 Feb 2024 13:30:00 GMT

Charlie Munger’s passing has left us ruminating over his pithy wisdoms that often slice through complexity with sheer simplicity. His words on deserving what we want is a philosophy that's as sobering as it is clarifying: "To get what you want, you have to deserve what you want. The world is not yet a crazy enough place to reward a whole bunch of undeserving people." The statement is a wake-up call, prodding us to look beyond luck and misfortune, to align our efforts with our ambitions, and to critically evaluate our own worthiness in the pursuit of our desires.

This process of self-evaluation is far from comfortable. It requires us to step back from our self-affirming narratives and consider why, despite our best efforts, we might not yet have achieved our goals. Munger challenges us to invert our perspective, to understand the arguments against our case with more clarity than even the detractors might possess. This isn't an exercise in self-deprecation; it's a strategic dismantling of our illusions to reveal a clear path toward personal growth.

Acknowledging that there are indeed instances where people have received more than they seemingly 'deserve' and others whose merit has not been fairly recognized, it's crucial to understand that fixating on such disparities is an exercise in futility. It is natural to feel aggrieved when we see the scales of fortune tipped in favor of the less deserving or when those who seem worthy remain unrewarded. Yet, dwelling on these exceptions is a diversion, a drain on the energy that could be channeled into productive self-improvement. It is true, but irrelevant and unhelpful. It is too easy for that to then become an excuse to not do better ourselves, and often blinds us to the ways we can and should improve.

The crux of Munger's philosophy pivots on focusing our efforts on the controllable elements of our journey. It's about identifying areas of improvement and, more importantly, committing to the rigorous work that these insights demand. It is in this commitment to action where true worthiness is forged. It's an active, relentless pursuit of personal betterment, a dedication to turning insight into impact.

This isn't to say that the world is a perfect meritocracy. Randomness and chaos are woven into the fabric of life. However, Munger's advice serves as a guide to navigate through this unpredictability with intention and integrity. By focusing on the actionable, we empower ourselves to step out of the shadow of what we cannot influence and into the light of proactive change.

To deserve what we want is to embody the readiness for it. It is to be someone who not only aspires but also prepares, cultivates, and evolves. It's about becoming a person of such character and capability that the world, in its rationality, cannot help but take notice. It is in this state of preparedness and alignment with our goals that we find the sweet spot of merit and reward.

Munger's insights beckon us not to the sidelines where we might bemoan the unfairness of life, but to the arena where effort and excellence are still the most reliable currencies. In the end, the true measure of our success lies not in the accolades we accumulate but in the authenticity of our journey towards deserving them. It's a reminder that while the world may not be crazy enough to reward the undeserving, it's still rational enough to recognize those who, through their actions, have made themselves truly worthy of what they seek.

The Illusion of Intelligence: Unpacking the Myth of Cynicism

Tue, 06 Feb 2024 13:30:00 GMT

For a long time, I wore my cynicism like a badge of honor. I believed that my skeptical outlook was a testament to my intelligence, a sign that I was not easily fooled or swayed by the world's illusions. But as I've grown, both personally and professionally, I've come to realize that this perspective was not only misguided but also detrimental to my well-being and growth.

Signaling to Whom?

The first question that comes to mind is, who was I trying to impress with my cynicism? Was it my peers, my audience, or perhaps some abstract notion of "others"? Marcus Aurelius, the Roman Emperor and Stoic philosopher, once mused, "I have often wondered how it is that every man loves himself more than all the rest of men, but yet sets less value on his own opinion of himself than on the opinion of others." This paradox captures the essence of my previous mindset perfectly. Why did I care so much about what these abstract "others" thought of my intelligence?

The irony is that in my quest to appear intelligent, I was wasting valuable time and energy that could have been better spent on constructive endeavors. Whether it's writing a new book, preparing for a TEDx talk, building a business, or investing in my own health and wellness, the focus should be on creating value, not on how others perceive my intelligence.

The Cost of Cynicism: Joy

Another significant downside to my cynical outlook was that it robbed me of the simple joys of life. Instead of marveling at the beauty of a sunset or the intricacies of human connection, I found myself fixated on what was wrong with the world. This focus on the negative not only made me less happy but also less effective in every domain in my life.

The Intelligence Paradox

Perhaps the most glaring issue with equating cynicism with intelligence is the underlying assumption that being miserable is somehow "smarter." This notion is not only flawed but also counterproductive. After all, we each have only one life to live. Is it "intelligent" to spend it mired in cynicism, or is it wiser to approach each day with awe and wonder?

As someone deeply invested in the concept of healthspan, I can say with certainty that a positive outlook has tangible benefits for long-term health and well-being. Numerous studies have shown that optimists live longer, healthier lives compared to their pessimistic counterparts. So, if intelligence is the ability to adapt and thrive, then optimism, not cynicism, is the smarter choice.

Now, I'm not advocating for blind optimism. A balanced perspective is crucial. However, if being occasionally naive is the price for a life filled with disproportionate joy, then it's a trade-off I'm willing to make.

Overcoming the Cynical Default

Assuming you agree, and don’t want a life viewed through a cynical lens, what can you do to overcome what may be your current cynical default? I have found the following helpful for me, and perhaps they can assist you as well.

Focus on the positive. Make an effort to notice the good things in your life, big or small. Keep a gratitude journal to help you focus on the positive.
Challenge your negative thoughts. When you have a cynical thought, ask yourself if it is really true. Is there any evidence to support it? Or are you simply seeing the world through a cynical lens?
Surround yourself with positive people. The people you spend time with have a big impact on your outlook on life. Make an effort to spend time with people who are positive, optimistic, and supportive.
Practice self-compassion. Be kind and understanding towards yourself, even when you make mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes, and it's important to forgive yourself and move on.
Seek professional help. Sometimes we just can’t do it alone. If you are struggling to overcome cynicism on your own, talk to a therapist or counselor. They can help you to understand the root of your cynicism and develop strategies for overcoming it.

Remember, cynicism is not a sign of intelligence. It is a habit that can be broken.

The Path Forward

As I look ahead, perhaps my views will change again in another 40 years. But for now, the choice is clear. I choose to be an optimist, to see the beauty in the world, and to focus on creating value rather than worrying about how others perceive my intelligence. This approach aligns not only with my professional goals but also with my personal values of health, family, and constant growth.

Cynicism may offer the illusion of intelligence, but it's just that—an illusion. True intelligence lies in the ability to adapt, to grow, and most importantly, to choose joy over misery. And that's a choice I'm more than willing to make, every single day.

Looking Within

Tue, 30 Jan 2024 13:30:06 GMT

In a world that constantly bombards us with messages of external success and material gain, it's easy to fall into the trap of believing that the next promotion, accolade, or milestone will bring us the fulfillment we seek. This belief is pervasive, yet fundamentally flawed. As the legendary actor Jim Carrey insightfully remarked, "It doesn't matter how rich, famous, smart, beautiful, or talented you are, the principle of hedonic adaptation applies to one and all. I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it's not the answer."

This sentiment echoes a truth that many of us know intellectually but struggle to internalize: the real answers lie within us, not in external achievements or possessions. Despite this knowledge, there's a persistent tendency to look outward for solutions and satisfaction. I, too, am not immune to this allure. Above my desk, I keep a note that reads: "other people aren't the problem." This isn't a testament to my mastery of this principle; rather, it's a daily reminder of a truth I know but must work to believe and apply. As Dale Carnegie pointed out, "Knowledge isn't power until it's applied." This note serves as a constant nudge to apply this knowledge more consistently in my life.

The realization that external achievements won't fundamentally change us can initially seem demoralizing. If acquiring that new house, car, relationship, or job won't solve our inner problems, then why have we invested so much in these pursuits? Why have we sacrificed so much, only to find that internally we haven't progressed?

This realization, however, shouldn't be a source of despair but rather a liberating revelation. The past is behind us, and the present is a new opportunity. Understanding that we don't need external validation or achievements to change ourselves hands us immense power. As Jiddu Krishnamurti said, “When the individual is in conflict within himself he must inevitably create conflict without, and only he can bring about peace within himself and so in the world, for he is the world.”

You are the world. This profound statement encapsulates the immense responsibility and opportunity each of us has. The peace and fulfillment we seek can only come from within. It's a journey of introspection, self-awareness, and personal growth. This inward journey requires us to confront our deepest fears, insecurities, and beliefs. It's about understanding our motivations, our values, and the narratives we tell ourselves. It's a path less traveled, often overshadowed by the allure of external achievements, but it's the only path that leads to true, lasting fulfillment.

This journey isn't easy. It requires consistent effort, patience, and a willingness to be vulnerable with ourselves. It's about learning to be comfortable with discomfort, embracing uncertainty, and finding joy in the process of growth and self-discovery. It's a path of resilience, where each setback is an opportunity to learn and each success a chance to reflect.

The pursuit of external achievements isn't inherently wrong. These pursuits can bring joy, satisfaction, and growth. However, their value diminishes when we hinge our self-worth and happiness on them. When we shift our focus inward, we start to understand that our worth isn't tied to our achievements, possessions, or the perceptions of others. We begin to appreciate the intrinsic value of experiences, relationships, and personal growth.

An Olympic medal didn't transform Muhammad Ali or Simone Biles. Their inner light was already shining. Those platforms simply allowed them to illuminate more souls. Oprah and Howard Schultz climbed high then lifted others up behind them.

So don't regret chasing dreams, even if they didn't satisfy. Because you can channel that drive into fuel for helping others now. Your expanded reach is a gift. This inward journey also has a profound impact on how we interact with the world around us. When we find peace within ourselves, it reflects in our relationships, our work, and our contributions to society. We become more empathetic, compassionate, and understanding. We start to see the interconnectedness of all things and realize that our actions have a ripple effect.

This is powerful but daunting. We can't force an amorphous world to transform. But our own backyards? Those we can tend. This is why the note hovers over my desk. Other people aren't the problem. Situations aren't the problem. Societal systems aren't the problem. The only problem I can take action on is my own inner turmoil.

By consistently applying this knowledge, I inch closer to sustainable peace. On good days, I proactively heal my pain so it doesn't spill out unconsciously. On bad days, I try to contain the darkness rather than spread it. Either way, I work to not transmit my inner conflict externally. Because I know today's friction becomes tomorrow's persecution becomes next decade's war.

It all starts with how we relate to discomfort within. Do we bury it or resolve it? Project it or integrate it? Allow it to control us or choose peace anyway? These micro-decisions ripple out as our energy enters the collective current. Each time we heal our inner divides, it opens space for outer reconciliation.

So, next time you face turmoil, recall Krishnamurti's words. Trace it back to the inner conflict underpinning the external strife. Then be the change you wish to see. We can't force the world to transform through sheer will. But we can tend our inner gardens, then notice the fruits ripening into outer abundance.

The journey within is the most important journey we can undertake. It's a path that leads to true fulfillment, peace, and a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us. As we embark on this journey, let us remember that the answers we seek are not found in external achievements or possessions, but within the depths of our own being. By turning inward, we unlock the potential to transform not only ourselves, but also the world around us.

Building Blocks

Tue, 23 Jan 2024 13:30:02 GMT

In the English language, there are only 26 letters. Yet from this finite set, we get the endless variety of Shakespeare, Toni Morrison, Shel Silverstein, and a child’s first poetic musings. Each author crafts something unique.

So too in life. We’re dealt certain cards, but the story we write has infinite possibilities.

I was reminded of this during an executive coaching program I took years ago. Part of it involved a blood test, assessing both physical and mental attributes. The test revealed I have the “fat gene” - which my wife still finds hilarious.

Around then, I also learned our metabolism slows as we age, potentially 1% annually after 30. These were my genetic building blocks for health and weight. But the story I’ve crafted with them wasn’t predetermined.

Regardless of that “fat gene,” I’m not fat. In some ways, I’m healthier now than in my mid-twenties, despite the slowed metabolism. The story I chose to author made the difference.

We all have natural talents and tendencies - our initial building blocks. But they don’t dictate our destinies. With commitment and

perseverance, nearly any story can be written.

LeBron James embodies this. His genetics gifted him extraordinary height and muscle-building ability - ideal basketball ingredients. But plenty of people share those traits. Turning those assets into generational talent required relentless work to develop his full potential.

Conversely, Stephen Curry entered the NBA as an undersized 160-pound guard, garnering no scholarship offers from major colleges. His natural gifts didn’t forecast his success. Yet through determination and skill development, he authored a new model of championship play.

Our starting hands vary in life too. Some face easier paths, others more obstacles. But we each choose what tale to tell. It comes down to the wisdom we gain, the habits we cultivate, the risks we take.

We can’t control our life’s beginning building blocks, only what we do with them. I didn’t choose my DNA. But I can choose whether I exercise and eat well, regardless. And so I author a healthy living story.

We write our narratives through daily choices. Do we read narrowly or expose ourselves to new ideas? Do we invest in personal growth or remain stagnant? Do we broaden our definition of possible, or cling to limiting beliefs?

The people I most admire took what life gave them and created something extraordinary. Despite initial doubters, they defined their own measures of achievement.

Your story won’t look like anyone else’s. Comparison misses the point. We each have a unique gift to cultivate, purpose to find, and meaning to create. The raw materials merely set the stage.

The question is, what tale will you tell with your days? How will you craft your sentence, paragraph, chapter? The story of your life is yours alone to write. So, take stock of your building blocks, then imagine the potential narratives. Dream boldly, write diligently. Craft a story you’re proud of.

Just like our favorite authors, we get to build worlds with our words and actions. Every day offers a new page. As the author of your life, what will you create? How will your story make an impact, or bring joy?

You hold the pen. So, write courageously today. Because this life, this story, is yours for the making. The question is...how will you fill the pages?

A Lesson in Perspective: From Frustration to Gratitude at 30,000 Feet

Tue, 16 Jan 2024 13:30:01 GMT

Travel can be a real litmus test for our patience and our perspective. There's nothing quite like the chaos of a delayed flight to ruffle even the most placid among us. On our return trip from a family getaway, navigating the budget-friendly skies of EasyJet, I found myself in the throes of such a moment—a potent cocktail of frustration, punctuated by a lack of communication from the airline and the cumbersome reality of too many bags.

As we stood on the tarmac, ready to board the plane from an isolated bus shuttle—a cost-saving measure that avoided the luxury of an airport terminal—I felt my irritation rising. The delay had stretched beyond an hour, and with each passing minute, my mood darkened. "Talulla, help me with these bags," I called out to my daughter, feeling the weight of my own luggage and her assorted carry-ons. But she, caught up in her own world, had already darted towards the plane, leaving me to juggle the load alone. My frustration boiled over into self-pity. I was ready to appoint myself the martyr of the day, carrying the burdens of modern travel like some Atlas of the airport.

But then, perspective hit me like the brisk Laplandian breeze. Just a few feet away, a scene unfolded that cast my own troubles in stark relief. A mother, with the effortless strength that seems granted to parents in times of need, cradled her sleeping child, while the father managed a precarious balancing act of three people’s bags in addition to a car seat. They moved with a synchronicity and grace that spoke of countless practiced departures and arrivals. "Wow," I said, a half-laugh escaping me, "perspective."

The word hung in the air, an acknowledgment of their challenge and a recognition of my own narrow view. These parents, encumbered with more than I could imagine, were handling the situation with a poise that I had momentarily lost. In the grand theatre of the everyday, they were the unexpected protagonists, while my role suddenly seemed so much less significant.

This moment of clarity aboard the tarmac was a microcosm of life itself. It's true, I've had my share of achievements, and I've often prided myself on making the most of the resources I have been given. But I am not alone in this endeavor. There are countless others—many of whom I will never know—who are doing so much more with even less. They face hurdles that dwarf my own, overcoming them with a fortitude that deserves nothing but my utmost respect.

Reflecting on this, I realize that it's not about undermining our own successes or belittling our efforts. Rather, it's about understanding our place in the tapestry of human experience. It's about recognizing that our struggles, however personal they may feel, are part of a broader human narrative in which everyone plays a part.

The world is indeed vast, filled with people carrying burdens both seen and unseen. Each of us is engaged in a multitude of silent battles, each as significant as the next. We often forget this, cocooned in the immediacy of our own lives. But the truth is, we are but one thread in the fabric, one story amongst millions. And sometimes, it takes a visible display of strength and resilience, like that of the family on the tarmac, to jolt us out of our self-centered orbit and back into the communal dance of life.

As I strive to remind myself daily, empathy is our compass in navigating this world. It's the quality that allows us to see beyond our own circumstances and to appreciate the complex lives of others. And for those moments when I lose sight of this, when the trivialities of my own life seem all-consuming, I am grateful for the living examples of grace under pressure that recalibrate my perspective.

So, the next time you find yourself at the mercy of life's inconveniences, big or small, take a moment to look around. There's a good chance you'll find someone facing a challenge greater than your own, handling it with a quiet dignity that speaks volumes. Let it be a lesson in perspective, a gentle nudge to step back and appreciate the grandeur of the human spirit—something far more expansive and extraordinary than the confines of our individual experiences.

The Serendipity of Existence: Making Meaning in the Maze of Randomness

Tue, 09 Jan 2024 13:30:02 GMT

There's a subtle art to finding meaning in the randomness of life, an art that requires us to pause and consider the incredible improbability of our own existence. It was during our family trip to London over the Christmas break that I was unexpectedly reminded of this.

Imagine this: bustling airport terminals, the hum of the holiday rush, and the focused intention of catching a flight. The universe, in its infinite jest, decided to play a card of serendipity. There we were, my family and I, making our way to the shuttle amidst the chaos of travel, when the voice of a loud-speaking man cut through the noise. Annoyance was my first reaction until my wife's nudge and a pointed "Isn't that your friend?" shifted my attention. And indeed, it was Steve, a friend from the small-world microcosm of Bermuda. In a city teeming with millions, against all odds, our paths crossed. What were the chances?!

Bermuda, with its population less than that of an Atlanta Falcons' game crowd, and London, a sprawling metropolis, are two points on the globe spun by the wheel of fortune to meet in such a timely intersection. We weren't even meant to be there at that moment. A cancelled train had set us on a detour, which led to this minute of coincidence—or was it fate?

This moment of connection, however fleeting, beckoned the question: What did it mean? It was both everything and nothing. The randomness that led to our meeting mirrored the randomness of existence itself. When you consider the incalculable sequence of events that had to align for us to even exist, it's staggering. Our birth is perhaps the least likely event in the cosmos, each of us a winning lottery ticket in the grand scheme of life.

Yet, drive down any street and you might notice a unique license plate—CDD7066. A random assortment of letters and numbers that you might never see again. Unlikely? Yes. Meaningful? Hardly. It's random noise in the symphony of life.

So, what then is the meaning of anything? Of everything? It is, quite simply, the meaning we bestow upon it. Our existence, while perhaps a cosmological accident, is an opportunity—an almost impossible chance to make an imprint on the fabric of reality.

We can view our lives as mere accidents, devoid of purpose, fleeting and insignificant in the grand timeline of the universe. Or, we can see our lives as the remarkable phenomena they are—rare chances to craft meaning, to love, to explore, to create, to live intentionally.

Both perspectives hold their own rationality, but I choose to embrace the latter. I choose to view life, with all its coincidences and serendipities, as a canvas for meaning. Running into Steve was a reminder that life's randomness is not a void of meaning, but a source of wonder. It's a nudge to make the most of the time we have, to find joy in the connections we make, however improbable they may seem.

Our time on this planet is indeed a blip in the context of eternity, but what a blip it is. The beauty of our existence isn't diminished by its brevity but rather enhanced by it. Each moment is a chance to live fully, to engage with the present, to make our little corner of the universe a place of warmth and meaning.

As we navigate the randomness of life, let us not be overwhelmed by the scale of the universe or the chaos of existence. Instead, let's take heart in the fact that we are here against all odds. Let's use our time to make a difference, to leave a legacy of kindness and achievement, to live in a way that when the cosmic dice are thrown again, we can rest assured that our time here was well spent.

In the end, the meaning of our lives is not something that's handed to us—it's something we create every day. It's in the choices we make, the love we share, the work we do, and the lives we touch. Our existence is a testament to the improbable, and it's in our hands to make it count.

So, here's to the unexpected reunions in the midst of London's hustle, to the cancelled trains that lead us to new adventures, and to the everyday miracles that remind us: we are the architects of meaning in a universe of randomness. Let's make it beautiful.

The Lab Coat Method: Creating a Culture of Innovation

Tue, 02 Jan 2024 13:30:00 GMT

My wife Katy loves two things: football and reality TV. So, when the two combine, like in Netflix's recent show Quarterback, she's glued to the screen. In one episode, Kansas City Chiefs' head coach Andy Reid describes their "lab on the field" where players can bring creative play ideas on Wednesdays. This simple concept provides three invaluable lessons for building an innovative culture in any organization.

Make Space for Innovation

It's easy to get mired in day-to-day execution, leaving no room for creativity. This explains the innovation stagnation in many companies. Creating protected space for innovation allows sharp focus on execution most times, while providing opportune breaks for unbounded creativity.

Google's famed "20% time" embodies this principle. By giving employees lateral space for passion projects, breakthroughs like Gmail were born. Great ideas flourish when the mind has free range to wander. Carving out opportunities increases the odds of sparks catching flame. Without such space, creativity rarely ignites.

Foster Ownership and Buy-In

Coach Reid shares that one reason they implemented "lab" days was to increase player buy-in and ownership. “What happens when the guys do this is that they’re vested in it,” he shares. Executing prescribed plans from above is one thing. Bringing your own ideas to life is quite another.

I've experienced this firsthand across multiple startups. Empowering my co-founder and early team to shape the products imbued deeper dedication during tough execution. Their ideas led to their sweat equity being more valuable. The Ikea effect is real - when people build something, they value it more. Spreading ownership enhances execution.

Give Credit, Own Blame

Coach Reid leaves the lab's door wide open, but still retains 51% voting control. Innovation culture can't become an excuse to abdicate responsibility. The leader must own when the outcomes do not meet expectations, while also giving credit to others when they do, or even exceed those expectations. With great freedom comes greater accountability.

When things go right, turn the applause to the team. Recognize those who contributed. But when things go wrong, take the blame. It's the only way to sustain innovation. People stop sticking their necks out if it means the axe falls on them alone.

Psychological Safety Above All

Behind Kansas City's lab is a culture of psychological safety, as quarterback Patrick Mahomes notes: "It starts off with the coaches, then we make it our own. That’s what makes our offense so special.”

Innovation is impossible without leadership establishing an environment where people feel safe to create. When done right, the team gains room to make ideas flourish. Psychological safety separates good cultures from great.

3 Steps to Build Your Lab

Schedule Innovation Time: Carve out recurring windows for wandering minds and wild ideas. Make it clear these sessions are judgment-free zones. Ask questions out of curiosity, not criticism.
Broaden Ownership: Empower people to shape solutions. The more the team touches ideas, the stronger the execution. Avoid top-down decree. Foster collaborative creation.
Establish Psychological Safety: Make it safe to contribute by responding with interest over judgment, intelligently challenging ideas without shutting them down. Reward brave attempts that may not fully succeed. Share credit widely. Take responsibility for failure. Innovation is impossible without psychological safety.

Innovation Mindsets

Beyond logistics, leaders must nurture innovation mindsets across teams:

Curiosity - Ask why and explore possibilities
Openness - Embrace ideas from anyone, anywhere
Flexibility - Allow detours and course corrections
Patience - Understand innovations take time to mature
Optimism - Believe breakthroughs will come

The Lab Coat

Innovation requires leaders discard the assumption they must be the sole inventors. You want to give everyone access to experiment. Ideas can still at times start at the top, but they will only reach their potential when collectively owned. So distribute those lab coats widely. Then stand back and let innovation happen.

The most creative cultures aren't dictatorships - they're labs. Is it time you opened yours?

Timeless Conversations: The Best Books I Read in 2023

Tue, 26 Dec 2023 13:30:00 GMT

“The reading of all good books is like conversation with the finest men [people!] of past centuries ,” wrote René Descartes, he of “I think therefore I am” fame, 400 years ago. If this was true in his own day, how much more so is it in our own when we can tap into that accumulated wisdom and add to it the millions of books now published each year?

Having “consumed” (read or listened to) more than 150 books over the past 12-months, as we close the year, I wanted to share some of my favorites in case you are building your own reading list for 2024. I also ask that you share any particularly great reads you came across as I am currently in the process of building out my own!

So, without further ado:

Bold Beginnings

Two books published by friends of mine are a great way to start the list, and to start your year. Begin Boldly: How Women Can Reimagine Risk, Embrace Uncertainty & Launch a Brilliant Career by Christie Hunter Arscott and The Bold Ones: Innovate and Disrupt to Become Truly Indispensable by Shawn Kanungo are the perfect pairing. Whether you are just starting your career or are looking to kick it up a notch in your already established career, both are filled with insightful and practical advice as well as inspirational stories of the recommended practices being used IRL.

Making a House(l) a Home

I was no doubt late to Morgan Housel’s The Psychology of Money: Timeless Lessons on Wealth, Greed, and Happiness having only recently read it, but it was so good I had to immediately pick up his new book, Same as Ever: Timeless Lessons on Risk, Opportunity and Living a Good Life , as well. The first does a great job in helping distinguish “rational” versus “reasonable,” making the case for not setting your bar too high, and demonstrating that wealth is not what you spend, but rather what you save. The second is perhaps even more relevant today as questions (and fears) regarding the rise of AI and more come to the fore. Rather than focusing on what will be different, the book makes the case that the more important, and helpful question is instead what will stay the same.

Better Breathing

Another natural pairing, Breath: The New Science of a Lost Art by James Nestor and Jaws: The Story of a Hidden Epidemic by Sandra Kahn and Paul R. Erhlich had immediate and measurable positive impacts on my life. For something we do more than 20,000 times a day, we give surprisingly little thought to breathing, until, e.g., with COVID, we find it more difficult than usual. The books make a compelling case for how and why we are getting so much of this wrong and are filled with many free ways we can address this immediately. I have implemented several of the practices recommended in my own life, and my calendar now includes 2 separate daily reminders to stop and do 4-7-8 breathing.

TED Talks

Preparing for my own TEDx talk in May , I of course had to revisit the phenomenal TED Talks: The official TED guide to public speaking: Tips and tricks for giving unforgettable speeches and presentations by the Head of TED, Chris Anderson (for the third time!). As is evidenced by the fact I read this book twice before this year, it is relevant for anyone, not just a TED speaker. The lessons in storytelling, presenting, and communicating more broadly will make you better and more effective regardless of your role or objective.

It's Sophie’s World, We Just Live in It

I am not sure what it says about me that a children’s introduction to philosophy book is one of my favorites of the year, but there you have it. Philosophy literally means “the love of wisdom,” but when written by philosophers, for me at least it can be intimidating, confusing, and oftentimes inaccessible. Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder is the exact opposite. It makes philosophy and the history of philosophy accessible, entertaining, and thought provoking, and teaches you quite a bit in the process.

A Man for All Times

My fascination with Paul Newman stemmed not from his acting, but rather from reading In Pursuit of the Common Good: Twenty-Five Years of Improving the World, One Bottle of Salad Dressing at a Time by Neman and his friend and business partner, A.E. Hotchner, a few years ago on the recommendation of Tim Ferriss. Thus, when his memoir came out ( The Extraordinary Life of an Ordinary Man: A Memoir ), I had to pick it up immediately, and boy am I glad I did. If you only know of Paul Newman through his acting, or through his salad dressings, or through his philanthropy, or through his car racing, or through his…you get the picture, then you are missing out. What a man. What a life.

Getting Back to Our Roots

How is it that it took me until my forties to read Roots by Alex Haley?! I read his The Autobiography of Malcolm X: As Told to Alex Haley in college, so clearly knew he could write. I also knew the PBS show Roots was a cultural phenomenon, though I still have never watched it. And yet, it took me until this year to pick up Roots the book. My conclusion? The best time for any of us to read it was we were in school learning history. The second-best time? Right now! Why is this not part of the standard school curriculum?

Shine a Little Light on Me

I have said it before and will continue to say that one of the most under-appreciated gifts of the Obama Presidency was that it brought Michelle Obama into our lives. The former First Lady’s The Light We Carry: Overcoming in Uncertain Times is a beautifully written book that will leave you with all the feels.

Look at Me

Jennifer Egan is probably best known for her novel, A Visit from the Goon Squad . As good as that book and its sequel are, reading her even earlier written work, Look at Me , this year I was left wondering: “Is THIS the great American Novel of the 21 ^st century thus far?” Written in 2001, Egan’s prescience on what our future holds is astonishing when read in hindsight. Any of her books are worth picking up, but this is my favorite.

Musings

Are you looking to read a great book? The Tenth Muse by Catherine Chung is just that. Need I say more?

The Navalmanack

Anyone who can get Tim Ferriss to write an introduction is onto something. The Alamanack of Naval Ravikant by Eric Jorgenson is the closest thing I have found to a modern Tao Te Ching . This book is available for free but I bought a hard copy immediately after finishing and plan to revisit it frequently, like I do the Tao Te Ching and Marcus Aurelius’s Mediations .

Keeping the Covenant

Abraham Verghese’s writing is simply beautiful. The way he crafts and tells a story leaves me in awe. I also have a fascination with India going back decades. It is truly a world within a single country, and a lifetime of reading about it, learning about it, and traveling and living around and within it would not be enough to fully understand it. Bringing Verghese’s writing virtuosity together with an epic multi-generational novel set in India is basically the Venn diagram of all of my favorite things. The Covenant of Water was always going to be on this list.

Healthspan > Lifespan

We often get two major things wrong when it comes to health. The first is that we equate health with an absence of disease. That is missing the point. The second is that much of health is focused on longevity/lifespan, i.e., extending the number of years we live, rather than the far more applicable and inspiring Healthspan, i.e., extending the number of HEALTHY years we experience. As perhaps the most well-known proponent of a Healthspan-focused approach, Dr. Peter Attia’s Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity could not come at a better time, even if it could have done with a better subtitle :). Attia’s final chapter on mental health brings much needed breadth to the subject of what health is and requires, and poses a question too rarely asked: why do want to live longer if you are not living a life you love?

The World in a Book

Simon Sebag Montefiore’s rollicking The World: A Family History strikes me as obvious required reading for life at any age, and wherever in the world you find yourself. Spanning the globe, and human existence, Montefiore makes our common story one well worth reading. It is an amazing story, so well told, so thorough, so expansive, and is an astonishing accomplishment.

Sovereignty

Am I allowed to put The Sovereign Individual: Mastering the Transition to the Information Age by James Dale Davidson and Lord William Rees-Mogg on my list? Perhaps Lord Rees-Mogg’s son’s politics will turn off some, while Peter Thiel’s new preface will prove anathema to others. And yet, like Ray Dalio’s Principles for Dealing with the Changing World Order: Why Nations Succeed or Fail last year, this book made me see the world in an entirely new light, question many things I took for granted as true, and months later I am still not sure what to think (or do!). Anyone who reads this and wants to talk about it with someone, please give me a call!

Dinner Reading

Mother for Dinner by Shalom Auslander is by far the most bizarre, hilarious, and original book I read this year. I have never come across anything quite like it, and I mean that in a good way.

Anne with an “E”

I originally came across Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery when I was in Mrs. Rainy’s third grade class at Shades Cahaba Elementary School in Homewood, AL. After lunch, she would read the book to our entire class. When Talulla received this book as a birthday present, it took the place of our Wizard of Oz series (since we have now read all of the 14 books in the series written by L. Frank Baum), and it is even better than I remembered. Talulla laughed out loud several times, loves Anne (with an E!), and as soon as we finished the first, we headed to the bookstore to pick of Anne of Avonlea . Whether we will also make it to the end of this series is still to be seen, but we are enjoying it t hus far.

Not so Hidden Potential

It is hard to think that "the man who does everything," as Tim Ferriss described him, could have had a time when his potential was hidden, but in what is perhaps his best book yet, in Hidden Potential Adam Grant shares incredibly personal stories of overcoming his own doubts and circumstances throughout his life to get to where he is. Like with his other books, he also includes lots of evidence to back up his assertions, compelling and original stories from all over the world, and actionable insights on how we can all be better at unlocking that potential hidden within each of us.

Christmas Bonus

While in London over the summer I ducked into a bookstore across from the British Museum and picked up a replica first edition of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. I would have forgotten about it, but fortunately as we got close to the big day, Talulla reminded me. As many times as I have seen A Christmas Carol performed live or on television, I think this was my first time reading it myself, though with this classic, I doubt it will be my last.

As you can tell, the reading was as varied this year as in prior years. Hopefully there is something you find interesting or useful here.

Books are truly remarkable - they allow us to commune with some of history's greatest minds. The living and the deceased sit equally on our shelves, ready to impart hard-won wisdom. I very much look forward to continuing the centuries-long conversation in 2024 by learning from both contemporary thought leaders as well as enduring voices from the past.

False Impressions: The Gap Between Words and Reality

Tue, 19 Dec 2023 14:30:00 GMT

In the age of curated social media feeds and polished blog posts, it's easy to fall into the trap of believing that everyone else has it all figured out. I've become increasingly aware that my own writing might contribute to this illusion. Just as social media often highlights only the best moments, leaving out the daily grind of chores at home and personal challenges we face, my blog posts could give the impression that I've got all the answers.

A Necessary Confession

Let me set the record straight: I don't. I am far from having it all figured out. While I may have gained some insights into various aspects of life, knowing and doing are two entirely different things. As my wife often reminds me, understanding a concept and implementing it into your daily life are worlds apart.

So why do I write? Not to portray myself as a paragon of wisdom or an exemplar of 'the right way,' but to explore my own thoughts and struggles. Writing is a form of self-discovery for me, a way to articulate what I'm grappling with in the hopes that it might resonate with others. As Joan Didion beautifully articulated, "I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear."

If you've been reading my blog and thinking that my life is as polished as my prose, let me disabuse you of that notion. My actions, and thus my life, are far from perfect. Even my writing, as any reader well knows, has its own shortcomings.

If you find yourself struggling with the issues I discuss, know that you're not alone. You have at least one partner in your struggles: me. And as we both navigate these challenges, I ask for one thing: have patience with yourself. These things are hard. But when we get them right? The rewards are immeasurable.

The Danger of False Impressions

The problem with false impressions is that they set unrealistic standards. They make us believe that everyone else is living a perfect life, and in doing so, they amplify our own insecurities. This is not just a social media issue; it's a human issue. We've been comparing ourselves to others long before the advent of Instagram or blogs. But the digital age has exacerbated this tendency, making it easier than ever to present a filtered version of ourselves to the world.

As we all navigate the complexities of life, let's remember that the journey itself is where the real learning happens. It's in the struggle, not the victory, that we find growth. It's in the questioning, not the answering, that we find meaning. As Tony Robbins says: “Quality questions create a quality life . Successful people ask better questions , and as a result, they get better answers.” We can all ask ourselves better questions.

Conclusion

So, the next time you read one of my blog posts or any piece of writing that seems too polished, too 'together,' take it with a grain of salt. Don't let it add to the pressure you might already be putting on yourself. Instead, use it as a starting point for your own exploration, your own journey toward understanding.

As you go through your own struggles, remember to be patient with yourself. These things are hard, but the rewards—those moments of clarity, of genuine connection, of deep-seated joy—are oh so meaningful.

Full But Not Fulfilled: The Paradox of Our Time-Strapped Lives

Tue, 12 Dec 2023 13:30:00 GMT

In a world that glorifies busyness, it's easy to mistake activity for achievement. A recent study revealed that two-thirds of Americans often or always feel "rushed" due to a lack of time . We wear our packed schedules like badges of honor, yet rarely pause to consider if this busyness equates to effectiveness, and more importantly, if it aligns with what we truly value.

The Illusion of Busyness

We've all been there—juggling multiple tasks, attending back-to-back meetings, and ticking off items on our never-ending to-do lists. When someone asks, "How are you?" our default response is often, "Busy. But good busy!" But what does "good busy" even mean? Is it filling our time with meaningful activities, or is it merely a smokescreen that masks a deeper issue—our lack of fulfillment?

Elon Musk and a newborn baby have one thing in common: they both get the same 24 hours in a day, just as each of us do. How we choose to fill those hours is a personal choice, unique to each of us. Sadly, many of those choices lead us to the same results. For example, the worldwide average of time spent looking at a screen is more than 6.5 hours a day. That's more than a third of our waking hours consumed by digital distractions.

If we're not filling our time with activities that bring us fulfillment, then our consumption of minutes and hours is akin to eating Little Debbie cakes instead of fresh fruits and vegetables. Sure, both will fill you up, but only the latter nourishes you in a way that's beneficial for your well-being.

Imagine your time as a plate. You can fill it with junk—mindless scrolling, gossip, and trivial tasks—or you can fill it with nourishing activities that align with your values and goals. The choice is yours, but remember, just like junk food, the former will leave you full but not fulfilled.

The Fulfillment Audit

So, how do we break free from this cycle of perpetual busyness that leaves us feeling empty? The answer lies in conducting a 'Fulfillment Audit.' Here's how it works:

Identify Core Values: List down what truly matters to you. It could be family, career growth, health, or personal development. It’s entirely up to you.
Track Your Time: For one week, keep a record of how you spend your time. Be brutally honest.
Analyze: At the end of the week, categorize your activities based on your core values. How much of your time is spent on things that genuinely matter to you?
Eliminate and Delegate: Identify time-consuming activities that don't align with your values and either eliminate them or delegate them.
Prioritize: Reallocate your time to activities that bring you closer to your goals and offer a sense of fulfillment.

Failing to audit how we spend our time has real consequences. It's not just about feeling rushed or busy; it's about the cumulative effect of misaligned priorities that can lead to a life of regrets. We risk missing out on what could have been meaningful experiences and relationships, all because we were too 'busy' chasing things that didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

The Power of Intentional Living

The next time someone asks you how you're doing, and you're tempted to say, "Busy. But good busy!" take a moment to reflect. Are you truly busy with activities that align with your values, or are you caught in the whirlwind of societal expectations and self-imposed busyness?

Being 'busy' is easy; being 'fulfilled' takes intention. It requires us to regularly audit our lives, to question the status quo, and to have the courage to eliminate what doesn't serve us. It's about living each day with purpose, so that when we look back, we see a life rich in experiences and relationships, not just a blur of activities.

Conclusion

In a world that equates busyness with success, it's crucial to remember that being full is not the same as being fulfilled. Let's strive to fill our time with activities that not only keep us busy but also bring us closer to the life we aspire to live. Because at the end of the day, fulfillment is not just about doing more; it's about being more.

So, the next time you find yourself saying, "I'm busy," take a moment to ask yourself, "But am I fulfilled?" And if the answer is no, know that it's never too late to change course. After all, a life well-lived is always there for the taking, if only we have the presence of mind to do so.

The Excuse Trap: How Labels Can Limit Us

Tue, 05 Dec 2023 13:30:00 GMT

I recently had lunch with a friend who is an avid runner. Over a plate of grilled chicken and quinoa, he lamented how an ankle injury a year ago had thrown his fitness routine off track. "I can't run like I used to, and I've put on 15 pounds because of it," he said, a note of resignation in his voice.

This conversation struck a chord with me, as I had recently undergone knee surgery. The recovery process had kept me out of the water for several weeks, preventing me from swimming, my usual form of exercise. It also meant that my regular gym routine, which included deadlifts and squats, was off the table.

The Tale of Two Mindsets

However, my approach to this setback was markedly different from my friend's. While he saw himself as a "runner," and therefore felt incapacitated when he couldn't run, I never labeled myself as a "swimmer" or "deadlifter." My identity was not tied to a specific form of exercise but to a broader lifestyle choice: staying active and eating healthily.

When I couldn't walk post-surgery, I didn't throw in the towel. I had resistance bands at home and continued to work out for 60 minutes a day. As soon as I was able to walk, I adapted my gym routine to include exercises that my condition would allow. I also maintained my healthy eating habits.

This experience made me ponder the limitations that come with labeling ourselves too narrowly. My friend's identity as a "runner" initially served him well; it was the catalyst that got him out of bed and onto the streets every morning. However, when that identity was challenged by an injury, it became a stumbling block. His label turned into an excuse for inactivity.

The Excuse Trap

We often fall into what I call the "Excuse Trap," where we allow minor setbacks to derail our larger goals. If we can't do something perfectly, we abandon it altogether. This all-or-nothing mindset is not just limited to fitness; it permeates many aspects of our lives. If we can't meditate for 50 minutes, we won't meditate at all. If we can't eat the exact meal we had planned, we opt for fast food instead.

Is a 5-minute meditation session as effective as a 50-minute one? Probably not. But the gap between doing nothing and doing something—even if it's just for 5 minutes—is monumental. The same logic applies to exercise, eating, or any other activity that contributes to our well-being. Doing something, anything, is far better than doing nothing at all.

The key takeaway here is the fluidity of identity. Labels and identities can be useful; they give us a sense of direction and purpose. But they should not be rigid constructs that limit our potential or become excuses for inaction. We need to be willing to adapt and evolve, to redefine ourselves when circumstances change.

Think of your identity as a piece of clothing. It should fit you well and make you feel confident. But the moment it starts to feel tight or uncomfortable, you should be ready to change into something that suits you better. After all, you are more than any single label can capture.

Conclusion

As we finished our lunch, I shared these thoughts with my friend. I could see a shift in his expression, a glimmer of realization. "You're right," he said, "I've let my 'runner' label hold me back. I’ll have to rethink what being active means to me."

And that's the crux of it all. We are complex beings, capable of adaptation and growth. Don't let a label, no matter how well it once fit, become an excuse that holds you back. Be ready and comfortable in changing it, just like you would your clothes. Because you, my friend, are far more expansive than any single identity can capture.

Less Things

Tue, 28 Nov 2023 13:30:00 GMT

Bruce Lee: "The more we value things, the less we value our selves."

Laozi: "If you realize you have enough, you are truly rich."

Seneca: "It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, that is poor."

These quotes from three of the wisest people in history speak to the truth that we are not our possessions. The more we value our things, the less we value ourselves.

A few years ago, as part of our company book club, I read the book Goodbye, Things by Fumio Sasaki. Sasaki describes how he went about creating and living a minimalist existence. He got rid of almost everything he owned, and he now lives in a small apartment with just a few essential items.

It would have been easy to find Sasaki’s example an interesting read, and then to move on with my life living no differently than before I picked up the book. Instead, I decided to act, and to follow Sasaki's example and declutter my own life. I went through all of my things and ruthlessly sold or threw away everything I did not consistently use. It was a liberating experience.

I realized that I didn't need all of the stuff I had accumulated over the years. I was happier with less.

There were a few things that I had a hard time getting rid of. I had a lot of medals from my swimming career in high school, college, and even for Team USA. I had also saved all my hard copies of photos from my childhood. But I realized that I didn't need these physical reminders of my accomplishments. As my friend and 5-time Olympian George Bovell says: “The medals were mere trinkets. I wasn’t an athlete training my body for a race. I was training my mind, and the reward is the rest of my life.” The reminders are not in the ribbons, trophies, or medals. They are in my mind.

Getting rid of my things also had a positive impact on my daughter. Too often, children feel trapped to "live up" to their parents, to pursue their parents' dreams instead of their own. I had my time in swimming. It was time for my daughter to build her own dreams, and set her own bar.

The more I valued my things, the less I was valuing myself. I was also creating an environment where my daughter might value herself, and her own path and own decisions less as well.

Less is more

There are many benefits to living with less. When we have less stuff, we have more time, more energy, and more money. We are also less stressed and less overwhelmed.

Here are a few of the benefits of living with less:

More time: When we have less stuff, we spend less time cleaning, organizing, and maintaining it. We also spend less time shopping for and buying new things. This frees up our time to do the things we love, such as spending time with family and friends, pursuing our hobbies, and traveling.
More energy: When we have less stuff, we have less to worry about. We are also less stressed and overwhelmed. This gives us more energy to focus on the things that are important to us.
More money: When we have less stuff, we spend less money on it. We also don't have to pay for storage or insurance for all of our belongings. This saves us money that we can use for other things, such as investing for the future or traveling.
Less stress: When we have less stuff, we are less stressed and overwhelmed. We don't have to worry about organizing it or preserving it. We also don't have to worry about losing or breaking it.
Less overwhelm: When we have less stuff, we are less overwhelmed. We don't have to make as many decisions about what to buy, what to keep, and what to get rid of.

How to get started

If you are interested in living with less, there are a few things you can do to get started:

Declutter your home: Go through all of your belongings and get rid of anything you don't use, need, or love. You can sell, donate, or recycle unwanted items.
Be mindful of what you buy: Before you buy something new, ask yourself if you really need it. If you don't, don't buy it. This has been a HUGE benefit to living on an island where it is not easy to just push a button and get something!
Repair instead of replace: When something breaks, try to repair it instead of replacing it. This will save you money and reduce waste.
Borrow or rent instead of buy: As a sharing economy guy, of course I would say this. If you only need something for a short period of time, consider borrowing or renting it instead of buying it. This will save you money and space.
Share with others: If you have something that you don't use often, consider sharing it with others. This is a great way to save money and reduce waste.

Conclusion

Living with less is not about deprivation. It is about living more intentionally. It is about focusing on the things that are important to us and getting rid of the things that are not.

So, with that, goodbye, things!

The Power of Freudenfreude: Finding Joy in Others' Good Fortune

Tue, 21 Nov 2023 13:30:00 GMT

In a world where schadenfreude has found footing, with people indulging in petty satisfaction from others' missteps, it's uplifting to shine light on its kinder cousin: freudenfreude. As German so aptly offers words for complex emotions, freudenfreude means finding joy in someone else’s joy, happiness or good fortune. It's the antithesis of schadenfreude and profoundly shifts how we experience the world.

Imagine scrolling social media, taking in a montage of achievements, celebrations and picture-perfect moments. For many, this elicits envy, resentment or insecurity. However, through freudenfreude's lens, these posts become opportunities to revel in others' joy, uplifting us too.

Why Choose Freudenfreude?

Opting for freudenfreude over schadenfreude isn't just the moral high road. There’s tangible, intrinsic benefit in celebrating others' victories, big and small. Our happiness is no longer tethered just to our journey, but broadened by many joyous moments.

Practicing freudenfreude reframes thinking in a healthier way. Rather than a zero-sum game where others’ gains feel like our losses, we shift to an abundance mentality. There’s enough good fortune for all to share happiness.

Furthermore, a freudenfreude mindset fosters connectedness and community. In a divided world, this emotion reminds us of our shared human experience and innate empathy.

Cultivating Freudenfreude: A Guide

Admittedly, happiness for others doesn't always come naturally. Societal norms, past experiences and insecurities may cause us to view others’ successes as deficiencies in ourselves. However, with effort and reflection, freudenfreude can become part of our emotional repertoire. Consider these steps:

Mindfulness: When envy arises, acknowledge it gently, then reframe perspective. Get curious about the backstory. What efforts did they make? How can you celebrate them and release insecurities?
Celebrate with Them: Offer congratulations or supportive comments. By engaging in their joy, you can feel part of it.
Practice Gratitude: Regularly noting thankfulness can mitigate feelings of inadequacy or jealousy. Their fortune doesn’t negate yours.
Seek Positive Stories: As negative news impacts mood, positive, uplifting stories boost it. Let these remind you of shared human triumph.
Surround Yourself with Joyful People: Emotions are contagious. Tap into the energy of those practicing freudenfreude.

Freudenfreude as a Lifelong Practice

As we navigate myriad emotions in life, remember the freudenfreude journey is just that - a journey. There will be days envy arises, and that’s okay. The goal is progress, not perfection. Give yourself grace in these moments.

Freudenfreude develops character for the better. Jealousy and bitterness often stem from unmet needs for validation, security, love. When these needs are met, others aren’t seen as threats. We can develop inner wells of self-worth and meaning that sustain us. Generosity of spirit comes more easily.

Most importantly, freudenfreude involves inner work to heal feelings of inadequacy and scarcity. At the core, joy isn’t finite. Others shining brightly doesn’t diminish our light. There’s enough for all. Doing this soul-work allows joy to become renewable, contagious and ever-expanding.

In a world of constant comparison with others’ curated highlights, freudenfreude offers a path to more contentment and connection. Choosing it over schadenfreude means replacing bitterness with buoyancy, isolation with bonds. The more good news we sincerely applaud, the more of our own we attract. Karma and psychology align on this.

As we stretch with empathy, humility and generosity, something wonderful happens. The more joy we welcome in, the more we feel. By releasing scarcity, we make room for abundance. Like muscles, our capacity for freudenfreude grows stronger with practice.

Though counter-cultural, celebrating others' victories breeds motivation, not resentment. Their journey inspires our own.

So next time envy arises, remember: Joy is never in short supply. There’s plenty to go around. Open up, and let the blessings ripple outward.

Poor Riches

Tue, 14 Nov 2023 13:30:00 GMT

"Some people are so poor, all they have is money." - Bob Marley

I love this quote because it doesn't make the mistake of stating or assuming money is irrelevant. People have to eat, they need to feel secure, and that means having a certain amount of resources, often in the form of money or access to it. However, Bob Marley also realized that this alone would never provide wealth. If all you have is money, you are still poor.

What makes true "wealth"? I believe it is a combination of factors, including:

Health . Both physical and mental health are essential for a happy and fulfilling life. Money can help you pay for healthcare, but it can't buy you good health.
Social connection . Humans are social creatures. We need connection with others to thrive. Money can help you buy things that make life more comfortable, but it can't buy you meaningful relationships.
Purpose . A sense of purpose gives life meaning and direction. Money can't buy you purpose, but it can help you achieve your goals.
Freedom . The ability to live life on your own terms is a precious gift. Money can help you buy freedom from financial constraints, but it can't buy you freedom from your own thoughts and emotions.
Love . Love is the most important thing of all. It is the glue that holds relationships together and makes life worth living. As some other well-known musicians once sang: “money can't buy me love.” True, and it can't buy you happiness either.

In the end, wealth is about more than just money. It is about having what you need to live a happy and fulfilling life. It is about having the resources to take care of yourself and your loved ones, and it is about having the freedom to pursue your dreams.

As the master of reggae also instructed us, "Don't gain the world and lose your soul; wisdom is better than silver or gold." True wealth is not about material possessions. It is about living a life that is rich in meaning and purpose.

How do we build a healthier mindset around wealth? We need to understand some core truths about it.

Wealth is not a destination, it is a journey. It is not about having a certain amount of money or possessions. It is about the process of learning, growing, and becoming the best version of yourself.
Wealth is not static. It can and will fluctuate over time. Thanks to hedonic adaptation, what feels like wealth at one time will feel like not enough all too soon. This doesn’t mean there is something wrong with you, it just means you are human.
Wealth is not about competition. It is not about comparing yourself to others or trying to keep up with the Joneses. It is about being content with what you have and focusing on your own journey. Comparison is, after all, the thief of joy.
Wealth is about giving. The more you give, the more you will receive. When you share your wealth, monetary or otherwise, with others, you not only make them happy, but you also make yourself happier and more fulfilled.

If we want to create true wealth in our lives, a certain amount of money is necessary, but it is not sufficient. We must be sure to focus on the things that matter most: our health, our relationships, our purpose, and our freedom. When we have these things, we live a life of abundance, and achieve wealth that far exceeds what money alone can provide us.

Self-Belief and the Quiet Rebellion of Authentic Living

Tue, 07 Nov 2023 13:30:00 GMT

I would recommend Stephen King’s On Writing for any aspiring writer, or artist, or just anyone. It is that good. Filled with wisdom, there is one story that has stuck with me for years. Stephen King writes of a time when a teacher thought he was “wasting” his talent writing in his chosen genre. “What I don’t understand, Stevie,” she said, “is why you’d write junk like this in the first place. You’re talented. Why do you want to waste your abilities?”

That single question weighed on him. The King of Horror, as he would later become, shares: “I was ashamed. I have spent a good many years since—too many, I think—being ashamed about what I write. I think I was forty before I realized that almost every writer of fiction and poetry who has ever published a line has been accused by someone of wasting his or her God-given talent. If you write (or paint or dance or sculpt or sing, I suppose), someone will try to make you feel lousy about it, that’s all. I’m not editorializing, just trying to give you the facts as I see them.”

The thing about King’s story? It's universal.

Be it the artist, the entrepreneur, the student, or the dreamer, each of us has faced, at one time or another, the sharp critique of external voices, determining for us the worth of our passions. While King’s art is in weaving words, his experience is not limited to writers. It echoes in the corridors of every profession, every dream.

We all face innumerable invisible battles each day. One such battle is against the external—often well-meaning—voices trying to chart our course based on their compass, not ours.

Why does this phenomenon persist? Why do people, even those who care deeply for us, attempt to veer us away from our true north? There's an underbelly of reasons. Some critics project their fears and insecurities. Having steered clear of their heart's compass, they now wade in the waters of regret, making attempts, conscious or otherwise, to ensure others follow their path. For others, it is simply an earnest, albeit misguided, desire to protect loved ones from potential failure or heartache.

But here's the rub: they aren't us.

Each person's journey is uniquely theirs, riddled with choices, mistakes, lessons, and victories that others can hardly fathom. As the legendary sage Laozi beautifully put, “Because one believes in oneself, one doesn't try to convince others. Because one is content with oneself, one doesn't need others' approval. Because one accepts oneself, the whole world accepts him or her.”

Now, isn't that the crux of it all? Self-belief. The fundamental tenet that governs our choices. It's the protective shield against the barrage of external opinions. With self-belief, our choices, no matter how unorthodox, stand validated. With self-belief, we follow the rhythm of our heart, and in doing so, find a harmony that resonates with the world.

But building this shield takes courage—a quiet rebellion against the status quo. It demands introspection, often painful, to recognize and discard the weight of others' expectations. It requires resilience to stand firm against naysayers and forge ahead with our vision. And most of all, it calls for unyielding love and acceptance of oneself, even when the world seems to sing a different tune.

Because the world eventually listens. It hears the conviction in the beat of a heart that has found its rhythm. And slowly, it starts dancing to that same beat.

The winding roads of life are best navigated with our own internal compass. For if we anchor our decisions and paths to external voices, we risk drifting away from our essence. Like a ship lost at sea, swayed by every passing wind, we remain restless, discontent, perpetually searching.

Yet, by claiming ownership of our journey, by recognizing and honoring our unique song, we not only find fulfillment but also inspire others to do the same. We send a message, clear and resounding, that every individual’s passion, be it writing horror tales or painting abstracts, holds inherent value.

So, the next time someone projects their roadmap onto your journey, recall Stephen King. Today, the world reveres him not because he chose to write what was ‘cerebral’ but because he remained authentic to his voice.

Your journey too is sacred. It’s a canvas waiting for the brushstrokes of your choices. Let it reflect your colors, your essence. After all, when we believe, accept, and content ourselves with our choices, the world not only takes note but also joins our dance.

The Quiet Strength of Discipline: A Journey with My Daughter

Tue, 31 Oct 2023 12:30:00 GMT

I have deliberately tried to craft the life I want right now , not waiting for some distant future that may or may not present itself. One part of that life is the one-on-one time I get with my daughter, Talulla, and in particular our nighttime story routine. Recently, we have been enjoying Jocko Willink's "The Way of the Warrior Kid" series. The narratives, far more than simple bedtime stories, have unraveled layers of wisdom, shaping not just Talulla’s worldview but also offering me profound insights.

A thread that weaves its way through these books is the principle that “discipline equals freedom.” It's a succinct phrase that is also profound, offering a perspective that's not just relevant for children but also for adults navigating the labyrinth of life's challenges.

Anatole France once remarked, “An education which does not cultivate the will is an education that depraves the mind.” Such words resonate deeply with the lessons from Willink's book. The underlying message? Without discipline, the very foundation of our decisions, actions, and ultimate life outcomes can become unsteady.

But what is meant by “discipline” here?

To many, discipline might conjure images of rigidity, restrictive routines, and the lack of spontaneity. However, as I have realized through reading with Talulla, discipline is not about imposing a singular path or a fixed way of thinking. Rather, it is the undercurrent of strength that allows an individual to walk their own chosen path with determination and focus.

In a previous piece on Forbes , I delved into the essence of not just understanding our desires but also the profound significance of comprehending the 'why' behind them. In the same vein, I would never want to impose a specific discipline on Talulla. Would it truly benefit her if I pushed her towards becoming a disciplined swimmer, only to watch her passion fizzle out after a few years?

Our paths are deeply personal. My interests need not be mirrored by my daughter. However, the call to action isn't for her to adopt my passions but to discover her own and then pursue them with a heart full of discipline.

Abraham Joshua Heschel captured the essence of this perspective: “Self-respect is the root of discipline: The sense of dignity grows with the ability to say no to oneself.” What a powerful sentiment. To possess the fortitude to decline, especially to our own impulses, brings a dignity that's unparalleled. To be disciplined is not about self-deprivation but self-respect.

For Talulla, this might mean waking up early on weekends, inspired by our reading sessions, to join me at the gym. Here, discipline isn't about rigorous workouts but the joy of shared experiences, the pride in pushing past personal limitations, and the freedom that emerges when she realizes that she's in control of her actions and decisions.

This philosophy, while stemming from the pages of a children's book, has universal relevance. Whether you're a teenager grappling with academic pressures, a professional balancing work and personal life, or a parent striving to raise a conscious child, discipline becomes the unsung hero. It’s the silent force that empowers you to say no to distractions, to prioritize, to stay true to your values, and to navigate life with a clarity that’s rare.

As Talulla grows, I hope she carries the lesson that discipline equals freedom, understanding it's not a doctrine I'm imposing but a gift she's choosing for herself. Whether it’s in pursuing a new hobby, sticking to a study routine, or even understanding when to say no to peer pressure, I hope she finds freedom in her discipline.

Ultimately, it's about nurturing a will, a drive from within that’s robust yet flexible, unwavering yet understanding. It's about nurturing the freedom to choose, to change, and to chart one’s unique course.

Life is a canvas, and while discipline provides the brushstrokes, the colors and patterns are deeply personal. As I journey alongside Talulla, witnessing her choices and watching her harness the quiet strength of discipline, I’m reminded of the endless possibilities that discipline cloaked in freedom can unveil.

For each one of us, may our disciplines be self-chosen, our paths be self-carved, and our journeys be enriched with the profound understanding that true freedom emerges from the heart of discipline.

Stability Through Constant Change

Tue, 24 Oct 2023 12:30:00 GMT

Though Charles Darwin never actually wrote or said it, Professor Leon C. Megginson was still onto something when he incorrectly attributed the following quote to the author of On the Origin of Species : “It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is most adaptable to change.” I thought of this recently when listening to the Rich Roll podcast with Brad Stulberg . Brad made the point that we often think of homeostasis as the natural and desirable state. However, this is a fool’s errand when the world is so constantly changing and changeable around us. Instead, he advocates for allostasis, or stability through variation. Our goal should not be fixed and rigid constancy, but rather flexible variation as we identify and predict changes (which are constant) in the world around us.

Maintaining equanimity is not about “getting back to normal,” as there never was any such static thing as “normal.” Instead, we get there through changing and adapting as the world around us, and our own needs change over time. As Marcus Aurelius reminded himself so long ago, and as is at least as applicable today: “Everything’s destiny is to change, to be transformed, to perish. So that new things can be born.”

Rather than impotently try and hold on to a today or a yesterday, we are better served to evolve and change to adapt to what is today, and what will be tomorrow.

The world is always evolving; change is a constant. Yet, our default is to resist change, to seek the safety and predictability of what we know. The quest for homeostasis, a stable internal environment, is ingrained in our biology, and it has served us well in many ways. However, in a world that is always changing, this can become a limiting factor.

Instead of seeking homeostasis, we should be striving for allostasis, stability through change. This is a more dynamic approach, where we actively anticipate and respond to changes in our environment. This allows us to maintain stability and well-being in the face of the constant changes that life throws our way.

It’s not just about survival, it’s about thriving. As humans, we have the ability to adapt to a wide range of situations, and this adaptability is one of our greatest strengths. However, we often resist change because it is uncomfortable. It forces us to leave our comfort zone, to confront the unknown, and to face our fears.

But change is inevitable, and resisting it is futile. As the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus noted, “The only thing that is constant is change.” Rather than resisting change, we should embrace it as an opportunity for growth and transformation.

It’s important to note that embracing change does not mean throwing caution to the wind and recklessly embracing every new thing that comes our way. It means being flexible and adaptable, but also discerning and thoughtful. It means being open to new ideas and experiences, but also critically evaluating them and considering their potential impact on our lives and the world around us.

In our personal lives, this might mean being open to new ways of thinking, new relationships, or new experiences. It might mean reevaluating our goals and priorities, and making adjustments as needed. It might mean stepping out of our comfort zone and taking on new challenges, even if they are daunting.

In the broader world, it means being aware of the changes happening around us, and actively engaging with them. It means being proactive, rather than reactive. It means seeking out opportunities for growth and development, rather than passively waiting for them to come our way.

In the end, it’s about finding a balance between stability and change. We need a certain level of stability to function effectively, but we also need to be adaptable and flexible in order to thrive in a constantly changing world.

There’s a certain beauty in change, in the ebb and flow of life. It’s a reminder that nothing is permanent, that everything is in a state of flux. It’s an invitation to let go of our attachment to the past and to embrace the present moment, with all its possibilities and potential.

It’s not always easy, of course. Change can be challenging, and it often comes with a certain level of discomfort. But it’s also necessary and, ultimately, rewarding.

As we navigate the changes in our lives and in the world around us, it’s important to remember that change is not something to be feared, but rather something to be embraced. It’s an opportunity for growth, for transformation, and for becoming the best version of ourselves.

Our path to equanimity lies not in resisting change, but in embracing it. By adopting a mindset of allostasis, we can navigate the changes in our lives with grace and resilience, and ultimately, thrive in a constantly changing world.

Living My Choice, Not By Circumstance

Tue, 17 Oct 2023 12:30:00 GMT

I found myself in an introspective conversation recently with a friend who was contemplating a shift in his career trajectory. He asked about my experience as a consultant, wondering whether the path would be right for him. My initial response was one of hesitation. I recalled my time as a consultant and admitted I didn't particularly enjoy it. But as our conversation deepened, I realized that my sentiment wasn't so much a commentary on the world of consulting, but rather on my mindset during that chapter of my life.

When I first embarked on my journey as a consultant, I was filled with optimism. The allure of new challenges, working alongside some of the brightest minds, diving into diverse industries, and honing my analytical prowess drew me in. Yet, somewhere along the line, that initial spark dimmed. I began focusing on the nuances that didn't align with my idealized vision - an unexpected location, a challenging client, or team dynamics that felt out of sync. Rather than savoring the journey and seeing each day as a deliberate choice, I began to perceive my daily grind as something I was being forced into. I felt more like a victim of circumstance than an architect of my own destiny.

Had I retained the mindset of choosing this path and the adventures it presented, I believe my experience in consulting would have been radically different. It's not that consulting was the wrong fit; it was my perspective that clouded the potential joys and lessons.

Eckhart Tolle encapsulates this sentiment beautifully in his writings. He states, “Accept - then act. Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it. Always work with it, not against it. Make it your friend and ally, not your enemy. This will miraculously transform your whole life.” How true these words are! Life seldom unfolds exactly as we design it, but that doesn't mean we're devoid of choice. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Every moment presents us with an opportunity to choose our attitude and our narrative.

In my post-consulting reflections, I've come to realize that, while I can't dictate every detail of my life, I do have the power to interpret my experiences. This notion aligns closely with the teachings of Brené Brown, who encourages us to challenge our internal narratives. Instead of accepting thoughts such as “this happened because of X reason,” or “this is the undeniable truth of my situation,” she suggests adopting the mindset of, “The story I’m telling myself is…” This simple reframing propels us from passive observers to active narrators of our lives.

Apart from hard facts, most of our life experiences are colored by the stories we tell ourselves. Recognizing this gifts us a powerful tool. We can either let our narratives hold us hostage or use them as transformative allies. It's a lesson I wish I'd grasped during my consulting years, and one I continue to work to deploy more consistently in my life.

So, as my friend ponders his next steps, my advice isn't about the pros and cons of consulting. Instead, it's about embracing each experience with an open mind. It's about recognizing the power we hold in interpreting our circumstances. Most importantly, it's about living each day by choice, not merely by circumstance. The better we are, and the sooner we are able to make our story our friend and ally, not our enemy, the more and more miraculously our lives will be transformed for the better.

Wabi-Sabi

Tue, 10 Oct 2023 12:30:00 GMT

In Japanese culture, there is an aesthetic philosophy known as "wabi-sabi" - a concept that encourages the acceptance and appreciation of the imperfect, the incomplete, and the transient. As a speaker and writer, I have come to value this concept as a conduit to authenticity and connection.

Preparing for a TEDx talk can be a journey like no other. There's a bevy of coaching that occurs, aimed at the enhancement of every conceivable aspect of your presentation. It's a process meant to produce a polished, effective communicator. However, I found myself grappling with a rather peculiar issue - my delivery was considered "almost too polished".

For many, the words "too polished" may seem contradictory. But it was not the first time I had received such feedback. I am lucky to be endowed with a good memory. This trait has given me an edge in many aspects of my life, from remembering facts and dates for my exams in school to memorizing presentations word for word, synching perfectly with video narratives in the backdrop. Society has often conflated memory with intelligence, a misconception that has worked to my advantage.

But the "gee whiz" effect my memory presented often had a flipside. Coaches noted that the over-polished performances could be off-putting, distracting from the message I intended to deliver and impacting the emotional connection I could potentially forge with my audience.

It was at this juncture of my journey that I encountered the idea of wabi-sabi. This concept champions the beauty of the 'flawed', of the 'incomplete', and of the 'ephemeral'. It stresses the authenticity that arises from imperfection. This idea resonated with me, prompting me to rethink my approach to communication and presentation.

The aspiration for polished perfection in every strand of hair and every syllable uttered is not only an exhausting pursuit, but also a futile one. My wife often tells me I look my best when I've just woken up, hair tousled and untouched by comb or product. This is when I'm my most natural self, unmarred by the pursuit of societal standards of 'perfection'. Wabi-sabi, in essence, is about embracing the beauty of this natural, unpolished state, the very state that makes us relatable and human.

This new perspective helped me take a step back and reconsider my writing approach as well. Instead of obsessing over each word in an article, I learned to focus on conveying my ideas effectively. Sure, my work may be imperfect, but it captures the essence of my thoughts and engages readers in a conversation, and that is its primary purpose.

This new (to me) philosophy also began to seep into my TEDx preparation. Rather than aspiring to be the perfect presenter, I decided to focus on what I wanted to say. I chose to embrace the wabi-sabi philosophy and to be natural, relatable, and, yes, imperfect. It was a liberating choice, allowing my authentic self to shine through, thereby enhancing my connection with the audience. [ You can check out the result here ]

I am still on this journey, slowly shedding layers of artificial polish and striving to appreciate the imperfect, the impermanent, and the incomplete. It is a process of self-discovery and growth, one that many of us can benefit from.

The concept of wabi-sabi offers a profound perspective shift. It urges us to revel in our flaws and imperfections, to appreciate the ephemeral nature of existence, and to realize that these elements contribute to our unique beauty. This idea, I believe, is something we could all incorporate in our lives, in our work, and in our interactions with each other.

Embracing the imperfect, the transient, and the incomplete means cherishing the raw, the authentic, and the uniquely human aspects of ourselves. It means letting go of our obsession with polished and filtered perfection and instead, fostering a deeper connection with ourselves and those around us. And in this process, we create a space that fosters growth, authenticity, and, ultimately, genuine connection.

Memento Mori?

Tue, 03 Oct 2023 12:30:01 GMT

The ancient Stoic philosophy introduced the Latin phrase “memento mori” meaning “remember you will die.” This Stoic concept encourages contemplating one's mortality as a way to live more purposefully.

The famous Stoic Seneca advised: "Let us prepare our minds as if we’d come to the very end of life. Let us postpone nothing. Let us balance life’s books each day. ... The one who puts the finishing touches on their life each day is never short of time.”

Memento mori isn’t just an archaic idea. The great Russian novelist Leo Tolstoy also extolled its virtues: "Memento mori - remember death! These are important words. If we kept in mind that we will soon inevitably die, our lives would be completely different. If a person knows that he will die in a half hour, he certainly will not bother doing trivial, stupid, or, especially, bad things during this half hour. Perhaps you have half a century before you die-what makes this any different from a half hour?"

I must admit, I am not naturally great at practicing memento mori. Intellectually, I understand that death awaits us all. But dwelling on mortality seems morbid, and frankly, depressing. My time feels better spent on more positive matters. In fact, I haven’t attended a single funeral in my life so far. Perhaps this makes me a coward regarding mortality. But funerals also won't make me immortal.

Death itself is out of my control. I can, however, influence my lifespan through diet, exercise, sleep, social connection, and stress management. So, I focus my energies there, on what I can control day-to-day. I accept that I cannot dictate the hour, day, year, or decade my end ultimately comes.

Rather than fixating on the abstract end of life, I aim to mindfully embrace the little “deaths” constantly unfolding. The finite nature of each moment is built-in.

Knowing the death of Talulla’s night feedings would come I savored them knowing there would be a time in the future I would think back to them with nostalgia. Her excitement for me to chaperone school lunches will also have its own death. Soon she’ll find me embarrassing and banish me from campus. My cherished time living in Bermuda will have its own death. Thus, I relish the island’s beauty knowing my days here are definitionally numbered.

These smaller endings and transitions may seem trivial compared to the ultimate closure of death. Yet appreciating them through the lens of impermanence has led to profound fulfillment.

My approach is perhaps less Stoic and more akin to the Japanese concept of ichi-go ichi-e - “one time, one meeting.” The essence of ichi-go ichi-e is that each encounter or experience is unique and temporary. Even the moments within this moment will immediately die.

Rather than focusing on the looming end of life, I aim to embrace the singular preciousness of each instant before it slips away. The smell of Talulla's hair as I hug her goodbye at school drop-off. The laughter shared with a friend over lunch. The smoothness of the water as I cut through it on my morning swim.

The Stoics find motivation in keeping death in sight. I find it by deeply engaging each fleeting moment. Not in dread of its passing, but in reverence for its singular beauty.

I don't know if my way is better or worse than memento mori. But nurturing presence has brought abundance to my life so far. Perhaps the Stoic view would enrich my appreciation further still. Memento mori’s enduring power may be in motivating us to infuse daily living with purpose and gratitude.

Rather than choosing between the approaches, integrating them may be wisest: use the realization of life's finitude to spur maximizing each day. Let the awareness of impermanence heighten the joy and beauty of the present. View mortality as the teacher that reveals living fully as life’s purpose.

Death comes for us all. But how we relate to that truth shapes our experience along the way. My outlook continues evolving, guided by ancient wisdom and modern practices. If remembering death more often stirs greater fulfillment, I will weave memento mori more into my perspective.

This moment will never come again. Even before I finish this sentence, it will be gone. All I can do is fully inhabit it, and release it with grace when its time expires.

The Process IS The Result

Tue, 26 Sep 2023 12:30:00 GMT

I have long believed in non-attachment to results. In past writings, I've discussed " the process as the result "—that we should focus on the journey rather than the destination. Recent events in the world of professional tennis reinforce this notion.

Novak Djokovic’s performance at this year's Wimbledon tournament is a perfect example. Despite being heavily favored, he lost in the final to the rising Carlos Alcaraz. Djokovic did everything humanly possible to prepare for and compete in the tournament. His training regimen, nutrition plan, and recovery protocols were all optimized to give him the best chance at victory. He brought his stellar game to the court and competed with full effort.

Yet the outcome, the result, was still not entirely within his control. Alcaraz also brought his A-game and earned the win and the trophy. In Djokovic’s gracious post-match interview, he acknowledged as much. He has seen other major finals go his way, just as they have gone to rivals like Federer and Nadal. This time, the result went the other way. But he accepts it with equanimity.

This mindset is key to Djokovic’s ability to continue breaking records, year after year. He does not attach to the records themselves, but rather focuses on his process of being the best player he can possibly be. By relentlessly honing his game, the wins and milestones come as a natural result. But not always, and he accepts that. This aligns perfectly with the notion of “the process as the result.”

However, I recently came across a quote from Gandhi that gives me a new perspective on this idea. Gandhi said: “It's the action, not the fruit of the action, that's important. You have to do the right thing. It may not be in your power, may not be in your time, that there'll be any fruit. But that doesn't mean you stop doing the right thing.”

Marcus Aurelius expressed a similar sentiment: “Just do the right thing. The rest doesn’t matter.”

This is a nuanced take on non-attachment to results. It’s not just that we should focus on the process of learning and improving, rather than the fruits of that process. We should also make the process of doing the right thing our focus. Our actions, rather than thoughts or words, are what matter most.

Gandhi and Aurelius tell us we should continue doing the right thing, regardless of what results may come. It is the action itself that is important, not “the fruit of the action”—how we will be perceived, how we will feel, what we will gain. The rest, as Aurelius said, doesn’t matter.

Upon reflection, this resonates with me. It evolves my perspective on “process as result.” The key is not just having a growth mindset, but pairing that with virtuous action. We can immerse ourselves in the journey of learning and improving. But we should also ask: Does this process involve doing the right thing?

For Djokovic, that may mean continuing to play tennis with passion and integrity, even as records elude him. For the rest of us, it requires examining if our processes align with ethical action. It is understanding that the result lies not in accolades or emotions, but in the morality of our conduct.

Of course, determining what exactly constitutes “the right thing” can be complex. But the maxim provides directional guidance. We can assess our actions against ideals of justice, human dignity, and virtue. No outcome can justify compromise on these principles.

In a world preoccupied with results over process, Gandhi’s words are defining, and Marcus Aurelius’s wisdom endures through the ages. The process is the result. That process/result is only a worthy and meaningful one when aligned with virtue. Our true purpose is served by our actions, regardless of what fruit they may or may not bear.

An Exercise in Patience

Tue, 19 Sep 2023 12:30:00 GMT

I was in the coffee shop at a local hotel on a Sunday morning when I witnessed a man losing his patience. He was yelling at the people behind the counter because his bagel was taking too long.

It was a beautiful day, and the hotel was in a tropical location. There was no rush to go anywhere, and the man was already in an incredible environment. But he was so focused on getting his bagel that he was unable to enjoy the moment.

This reminded me of when we first moved to Bermuda. Being used to the hustle and bustle of a bigger city, I initially had a hard time adjusting to "island time." Add to this that visitors are not allowed to rent cars, and you cannot even get a local license to be able to get a car as a resident until you have been here for a set period, and we found ourselves relying on the public bus system.

This was to travel anywhere: meetings, taking my daughter to school, groceries, anything. Being at the whims of public transport has its own challenges, but this was further compounded because we were in the throes of COVID at the time, meaning buses ran a more limited schedule, had limited capacity when they did run meaning you were not guaranteed a spot even when a bus did come, and that it seemed the bus drivers were on strike roughly 10% of the time.

Had I maintained my hurry up and wait attitude, I would have been miserable. However, I learned to embrace patience. It drove home for me Epictetus's teaching that "Some things are within our control, and some things are not. It is only after you have faced up to this fundamental rule and learned to distinguish between what you can and can’t control that inner tranquility and outer effectiveness become possible."

Rather than feel I was "wasting time" waiting for buses, I made sure I had my phone loaded with podcasts and audiobooks. This helped me not get frustrated, and maintain that inner tranquility. It was also likely no coincidence that I wrote my book Get Out of My Head that first year in Bermuda. By distinguishing between what I could and could not control, I became outwardly more effective in synthesizing and documenting my thinking, leading to a best-selling book.

All of it was a gift in teaching me to not just accept patience, but to embrace it and appreciate it. I will not pretend I am the Buddha or anything at this stage, but I am far more patient than when I first moved to Bermuda. And seeing those moments where a tourist loses his patience only helps. In the end, the servers were so busy trying to placate the yelling gentleman that they burned his bagel. In losing his inner tranquility, he also undermined his outer effectiveness in getting a tasty breakfast. May it be a lesson us all.

Here are some tips for cultivating patience:

Accept that some things are out of your control. This is the first step to inner tranquility. Once you realize that you can't control everything, you can stop wasting your energy getting upset about it.
Focus on the present moment. When you're feeling impatient, it's easy to get caught up in thoughts about the past or the future. But the only thing you can control is the present moment. So, take a few deep breaths and focus on what you're doing right now.
Be kind to yourself. Everyone loses their patience from time to time. Don't beat yourself up if you do. Just learn from the experience and move on.
Find ways to relax and de-stress. When you're feeling stressed, it's harder to be patient. So, make sure you're taking care of yourself both physically and mentally. Exercise, meditation, breathwork, and spending time in nature are all great ways to relax and de-stress.

Patience is a skill that takes time and practice to develop (i.e., patience!). It is also a skill that is worth cultivating. Patience helps us reduce stress, improves our relationships, and helps us achieve our goals. So, next time you're feeling impatient, take a breath and question: what is the actual rush?

The Odyssey of Life

Tue, 12 Sep 2023 12:30:00 GMT

The notion of a journey is more than the act of traversing the space between two points. As masterfully depicted by C.P. Cavafy in his poetic work "Ithaka," the journey is rich with nuances, brimming with potential lessons, and ultimately, inextricable from the destination. Cavafy elegantly and symbolically portrays the epic voyage of Odysseus, encouraging him to relish his odyssey to Ithaka rather than rush it. Just as Odysseus’ voyage, our life too, can be viewed as a prolonged journey filled with a series of destinations or, conversely, a journey made more rewarding by the destinations we seek.

Drawing this parallel with our own lives, let us reflect on Cavafy's sage words: "As you set out for Ithaka hope the voyage is a long one, full of adventure, full of discovery." The poem is a gentle reminder that the wealth of our journey does not reside in the immediacy of reaching our Ithaka, but rather in the experience, wisdom, and maturity garnered along the way.

Life, in many ways, mirrors this profound sentiment. Is it the destination that matters, or is the journey itself the true purpose? A common perception is that our lives are filled with time between the destinations we seek, but an alternative view is that these destinations are simply tools to enrich our journey, rendering it more entertaining, rewarding, and fulfilling.

This philosophy provides a refreshingly nuanced perspective on the cyclical rhythm of our existence. Every achievement, every milestone, each destination we arrive at, signifies the death of the journey taken to get there. Yet, in that death, life is reborn anew, as we set our sights on a new Ithaka, a new adventure waiting to unfold.

It brings to mind Cavafy's closing lines, which highlight the profound significance of the journey: "And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you. Wise as you will have become, so full of experience, you’ll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean." This poignant message is not about the affluence of Ithaka, the destination, but rather the wealth amassed during the journey. The wisdom and experience gained through our odyssey of life help us truly comprehend what our Ithakas - our personal goals and aspirations - really mean.

As i was working through this piece, I had yet another "project" with my daughter Talulla. Her favorite toys seem to be those that take hours to put together, only to be discarded and ignored within days of their completion. I used to think of this as a waste. A waste of the money, the time, and the effort. As I contemplated this piece, however, I began to see it for what it is. Talulla never cared for the end product. It was the journey of working together on something that makes these toys and projects appealing to her. In this light, I couldn't be more grateful that she chooses these rather than a video game that locks her by herself to a screen, or another stuffed animal. It is only now that I finally realize what "these Ithakas," these projects with Talulla, mean.

We all share a singular destination, the universal Ithaka that awaits each of us - the inevitable conclusion of life, death. It is a journey we all undertake, knowingly or otherwise, and therein lies the beauty of Cavafy's counsel: not to hasten towards this end but to embrace and appreciate the journey leading to it.

In life, as in travel, the destination is finite, but the journey is limitless. The voyage to our personal Ithakas holds the promise of growth, wisdom, and the joy of exploration. The urge to rush towards the end is an intrinsic human trait, but in doing so, we run the risk of overlooking the magic of the journey, the countless Ithakas we encounter along the way.

Life, in its essence, is in the journey. It's a grand adventure to be savored, a book to be read slowly, enjoying every word. It is a voyage to be embarked upon with anticipation and wonder, for every step taken, every milestone reached, enriches our understanding and appreciation of what our Ithakas truly mean.

Travel your journey. Live it fully. Learn, grow, savor, and above all, make every step count. Because at the end of it all, we won't remember the arrival at our destinations as much as the journey we took to get there. As Cavafy profoundly reminds us, the journey to Ithaka is a treasure in itself, far more enriching than any one “Ithaka” could ever be.

The Abundance of Joy: An Epicurean Approach to Enjoying What We Have

Tue, 05 Sep 2023 12:30:00 GMT

In a previous article, "Subtracting from Your Wants" , I explored the path to riches as reframed by a variety of philosophical perspectives, particularly the Stoic approach that argues that we become wealthier by reducing our desires rather than accumulating possessions. This ancient philosophy, also embedded in Buddhist and Taoist thought, is remarkably insightful and liberating. As the Buddha articulated, "Happiness does not depend on what you have or who you are, it solely relies on what you think." Similarly, Laozi, a central figure in Taoism, stated, "He who is contented is rich." However, as profound as these perspectives are, there is an additional layer to the concept of contentment - a level that transcends mere satisfaction and navigates into the realm of joy.

Epicurus, an ancient Greek philosopher, often seen as the Stoics' philosophical rival, offers this nuanced perspective. While the Stoics advocated appreciating what one has, Epicurus pushed the boundary further by emphasizing the importance of truly enjoying what one possesses. In his words, “It is not what we have, but what we enjoy, that constitutes our abundance.” From this viewpoint, being content or abstaining from dissatisfaction, while certainly virtuous, isn't the pinnacle of what we can achieve. Epicurus opens up a path to a higher state - the state of joy and enjoyment.

In order to truly live abundantly, appreciating what we already possess is merely the first step. The next involves deriving joy from these same things. Consider a child who is thrilled with a new toy on Christmas morning but is bored with it by New Year's Day. Doesn't this mimic our own behavior? We often forget the joy we initially derived from objects and people, such as our car, home, smartphone, and even our loved ones. The challenge is not merely to appreciate these things, which is of course important, but also to maintain the mindset of newness, allowing ourselves to continually extract joy from them.

In essence, we need to reconnect with the childlike wonder and excitement we naturally held when we first acquired these possessions or formed these relationships. By doing so, we allow ourselves to continually see the newness and novelty in the familiar. It is this sustained joy and excitement that Epicurus argues is the essence of abundance.

Epicurean philosophy isn't about chasing ephemeral happiness through fleeting desires. It's about cherishing and rejoicing in what we already have. It's about finding joy not in the future or the past but in the present moment with our current possessions and relationships. This is where the abundance truly lies, according to Epicurus. By adopting this perspective, we start to see abundance not as a physical or materialistic concept, but as an emotional and psychological state - a state of constant joy derived from the continuous appreciation and enjoyment of what we already possess.

But it's essential to remember that this isn't an argument for complacency. Rather, it's an encouragement to develop a deeper, more appreciative relationship with the world around us and the things we already have. In this sense, the enjoyment of what we have serves as a springboard for pursuing growth and improvement, not as a barrier.

Abundance, in this sense, isn't about ownership or possession; it's about the richness of experience, the depth of appreciation, and the vibrancy of joy we can extract from our existing world. The ability to extract this joy is something we all possess. It requires us to look within, appreciate, and of course, enjoy!

Crafting the Life You Want, Here and Now

Tue, 29 Aug 2023 12:30:00 GMT

Seneca, the ancient Stoic philosopher, once penned a line that continues to reverberate through time: "Putting things off is the biggest waste of life: it snatches away each day as it comes, and denies us the present by promising the future." For many, this serves as a clarion call, beckoning them toward sweeping life changes. The need for a new job, a change of scenery, a different relationship – these transformations can appear as the only routes to the life we yearn for.

Yet, more often than not, the scale and perceived difficulty of these changes becomes a formidable deterrent. They loom large, seeming insurmountable, and the fear of failure often tethers us firmly to the familiar. In such circumstances, change is postponed indefinitely, leaving the promise of a fulfilling life an unfulfilled dream. But what if I told you there's an alternative path?

Renowned scholar Joseph Campbell, famed for his work "The Hero with a Thousand Faces", proposed a different approach: "If you follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living." What if we could reshape our lives here and now, without grand gestures of change, but through a series of small, deliberate actions towards our desires?

This epiphany resonated deeply within me, as I found myself stuck in a loop of future-focused anticipation. I was dreaming of a life as a writer but spent precious little time penning words. I clung to the comfort of the phrase "once I retire", letting it absolve me of the responsibility of starting now. The unpredictable nature of life, however, makes such promises to our future selves illusory. A profound shift in my understanding occurred, thanks to the wisdom of my mentors and friends: I didn't need to wait for retirement to become a writer. The roadblock wasn't my inability to earn a living from writing right away. The true obstacle was the absence of writing in my daily life.

Embracing this realization, I revised the composition of my days, carving out spaces for writing and learning. Instead of waiting for a distant tomorrow, I chose to engage with my passion in the here and now. In my quest for a writer's life, I had allowed Seneca's quote to drive me towards a complete life overhaul, a daunting prospect that only further delayed my pursuit. Joseph Campbell’s wisdom illuminated an alternative path, showing me that massive change wasn't a prerequisite for realizing my dream. It became clear that my lofty expectations were an artfully cloaked form of procrastination.

In a twist of irony, the very desire to change everything had become the obstacle to changing the one thing that mattered most – the incorporation of writing into my everyday life. Both Seneca and Campbell were right: I had been squandering my life, pushing away what I wanted to do, and the life I wished to live. Yet, I held the power to pursue what for me was a fulfilling life the entire time. It existed within me, merely waiting to be acknowledged and expressed.

The lesson is simple but profound. The life you desire doesn’t necessitate an upheaval of your current circumstances. It calls for a change in perspective, an understanding that you can take steps towards your dream life today, from exactly where you are. I’ve started on this journey, and I hope you find the courage to do so as well. Every day offers an opportunity to align your actions with your aspirations. Start small. Start now. The life you want is not just a destination, but a journey to be enjoyed in the present moment.

Contentment versus Striving: The Dance of Life

Tue, 22 Aug 2023 12:30:00 GMT

There are times when life can seem like little more than a series of dreams and desires, an oscillation between contentment and striving. Many of us find ourselves in an unending cycle, where achieving one goal merely sets the stage for the pursuit of the next. This dynamic can lead to an insatiable hunger, an endless yearning for what we perceive as 'more'.

In stark contrast to this relentless pursuit stands contentment, a state of being where we take joy in what we possess, both tangible and intangible. Ancient philosophers such as Laozi, and later, Seneca, advocated for contentment as the path to true fulfillment. Laozi beautifully encapsulated this idea by stating, "Be content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you."

Similarly, Seneca advocated for appreciating the present moment and deriving satisfaction from what we have. He asserted that: “True happiness is to enjoy the present, without anxious dependence upon the future, not to amuse ourselves with either hopes or fears but to rest satisfied with what we have, which is sufficient, for he that is so wants nothing. The greatest blessings of mankind are within us and within our reach. A wise man is content with his lot, whatever it may be, without wishing for what he has not.” In this perspective, contentment isn't merely acceptance of the status quo but a profound recognition of the abundance of our existing circumstance.

However, the paradox arises when we consider that many of our modern conveniences, from indoor plumbing to modern medicine, are fruits of discontent and unfulfilled desires. Every major invention or development in human history is a testament to someone, somewhere, refusing to be content with their lot and striving for more. So, how do we reconcile these seemingly contrasting perspectives?

Perhaps the answer lies not in the binary of contentment versus striving, but in the nature of our striving and the definition of our contentment. What if striving needn't be a relentless chase for a predetermined end goal, but rather a joyous journey of learning, creating, and discovering?

Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, the renowned psychologist, identified this as the state of 'flow' - a state of complete absorption in an activity, resulting in a loss of sense of time and self, leading to ultimate satisfaction. In this view, the act of striving morphs from a constant struggle into a fulfilling process. It really is about the journey, not the destination.

If we shift our perspective to value the process over the end goal, we redefine our understanding of contentment and striving. Contentment does not have to be a static state, characterized by a lack of growth or progress. Rather, it can be a dynamic state where we find joy, satisfaction, and fulfillment in the act of striving itself.

This paradigm shift allows us to strive for more while also being content with the process of the striving rather than the achievement of the “more.” It empowers us to embrace the journey and its inherent struggles, knowing that they are integral parts of our growth. This way, we can enjoy the benefits of progress without being enslaved by the unending pursuit of predefined results.

So, perhaps, the right answer isn't about choosing between contentment or striving, but rather embracing a new way of perceiving them. Striving is not the problem, nor is it in conflict with contentment if we learn to derive joy from the journey rather than the destination.

The point being that contentment and striving can coexist harmoniously. When we adopt an attitude of 'contented striving,' we unlock a pathway to continual growth and discovery while maintaining our inner peace and satisfaction. By being content with the process of striving, we might find ourselves discovering more, achieving more, and most importantly, enjoying more. So, let us pursue a life of 'happy contented striving.' Who knows what we will learn, and it should be an enjoyable journey along the way.

A More Scientific Approach

Tue, 15 Aug 2023 12:30:00 GMT

In 2016, as I watched the Trump/Clinton Presidential debates unfold, I vividly remember the moment when Hillary Clinton confidently proclaimed, "I believe in science." As someone who values scientific inquiry, I couldn't help but feel a surge of agreement and support. After all, what other position could one take when it comes to understanding the world around us?

However, in the years that followed, particularly during the heated culture wars surrounding COVID-19, it became evident that for many the notion of "science" had transformed into a dogma, an article of faith, rather than a rigorous and open-minded approach to discovery. This realization prompted me to explore what I had in mind when I thought of “science” and the importance of maintaining a truly scientific mindset.

According to Oxford Languages, science is "the systematic study of the structure and behavior of the physical and natural world through observation, experimentation, and the testing of theories against the evidence obtained." At its core, science is a process that involves formulating theories, subjecting them to empirical testing, and continuously refining our understanding based on the evidence at hand. It is not about clinging to absolute knowledge but rather about embracing the journey of discovery and striving to approach closer to the truth.

Somewhere along the way, science seems to have adopted a more archaic definition, or rather we as a society have adopted it, equating “science” to "knowledge." As humans, we are susceptible to cognitive biases, including confirmation bias, which reinforces our existing beliefs and prevents us from critically evaluating new information. To truly embody the scientific approach, we must remain vigilant against falling into the trap of dogma and be open to challenging our own assumptions. Science not only can be challenged but must be challenged if it is to remain scientific.

The renowned philosopher, Jiddu Krishnamurti, expressed a profound insight into the nature of scientific discovery. He stated, "Even the poor scientist, if he wants to discover anything, has to put aside his knowledge and conclusions, because they will color any discovery. Sir, to find out, we must die to the things we know."

Krishnamurti's words hold true not only for scientists but for all of us. To make genuine progress and uncover new truths, we must be willing to let go of our preconceived notions and embrace a mindset of openness and curiosity. Like Faulkner, we must be willing to “kill our little darlings.”

In both scientific inquiry and other areas of life, progress requires humility and critical thinking. Just as scientists must be willing to discard old theories when new evidence emerges, we, too, should be open to revisiting our beliefs and accepting that our current understanding might be incomplete or flawed.

Epictetus wisely noted, "We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak." By actively listening to all sides of an argument and engaging in thoughtful discourse, we can broaden our perspectives and cultivate a more nuanced understanding of complex issues.

It is essential to recognize that science should not be reduced to a team sport. Cheering for our "team" without critically evaluating the evidence or dismissing opposing viewpoints hinders progress. Instead, let us strive to transcend the team mentality and approach discussions with intellectual honesty, seeking the truth rather than to “win.”

In today's increasingly polarized world, where ideologies often overshadow the pursuit of knowledge, it is crucial to reclaim the true essence of science: an unwavering commitment to open-mindedness and critical thinking. The mere proclamation of "I believe in science" is not enough; we must actively engage in the scientific process of observation, experimentation, and the testing of theories against evidence.

Science is not a fixed body of knowledge but a dynamic and evolving pursuit of truth.

To embody a scientific mindset, we must guard against the pitfalls of dogma and confirmation bias. We should be mindful of the biases that can cloud our judgment and be willing to challenge our own assumptions. Krishnamurti's wisdom reminds us that discovery requires us to set aside our preconceived notions and venture into the unknown with humility and curiosity.

Just as scientists discard outdated theories when confronted with new evidence, we too should be open to revisiting and refining our beliefs. By actively listening, valuing different perspectives, and engaging in respectful discourse, we can expand our understanding and develop a more comprehensive view of complex issues.

It is essential to transcend the team mentality that permeates our society. Rather, let us embrace intellectual honesty and seek the truth, even when, and especially if it challenges our established beliefs. Only through this approach can we foster meaningful and constructive dialogue that leads to advancements in knowledge and understanding.

As we navigate the intricate landscape of today's world, we must reclaim the spirit of true scientific inquiry. Science is not a rigid doctrine; it is a process that encourages us to question, explore, and evolve. By embracing open-mindedness, cultivating critical thinking, and avoiding the trappings of dogma, we can foster a society that embraces evidence-based reasoning and the pursuit of truth.

Let us remember that the scientific approach extends far beyond laboratories and academia—it is a mindset that empowers us all to seek a deeper understanding of our world and ourselves.

External Freedom, Internal Bondage

Tue, 08 Aug 2023 12:30:00 GMT

I recently had a conversation with a friend who had just left her high-powered career in finance after having her third child. She felt like she didn't have any choices anymore, and that she had closed the door on a meaningful career.

I disagreed with her. I said that she always had choices open to her, but that there would be trade-offs. For example, she could choose to do something completely different, like go try and make it in Hollywood. It is just that she would have to start at the bottom, fetching coffee for other people, and maybe even as an unpaid intern. She responded, "Oh, I would NEVER do that."

The lack of freedom in her life wasn't due to anything external, but entirely internal to her. It was tied to her unwillingness to take what she perceived as a step backwards.

How often in our lives are we "trapped," not by someone or something else, but rather by our own lack of flexibility, open-mindedness, and humility? We can't have it all, but we can have anything we choose, should we be willing to make the trade-offs and sacrifices necessary for them.

As Joseph Campbell so aptly put it: "The ultimate dragon is within you, it is your ego clamping you down." Once you get the courage to slay that internal dragon, the universe of possibilities opens to you.

In my friend's case, she was so focused on her previous career, lifestyle, and compensation that she couldn't imagine starting over at a lower level. She was too proud to take a step back, even if it meant moving closer to her dreams.

We all have our own dragons to slay. For some of us, it might be the fear of failure or rejection. For others, it might be the fear of giving up the creature comforts to which they have become accustomed. Whatever our dragon is, we can't let it hold us back from living the lives we are capable of.

We need to be willing to take risks, to step outside of our comfort zones, and to make mistakes. We need to be willing to learn and grow, even if, no, especially when we may look foolish doing so.

If we can do that, then we have achieved freedom in its most and perhaps only meaningful sense.

But what does this look like in practice? How do we go about combatting the internal dragon?

If our dragon is a fear of failure, start small. Set small goals that you know you can achieve, and then build on your success. Don’t fake it until you make it. Stack the deck so you can make it from the start. Achieving will have you believing.

Afraid of rejection? Inoculate yourself against it. Go out of your way to have people say no to you. The more they do, the less sting it will have. Make absurd asks. A date with someone who is completely out of your league. A meeting with your dream mentor. A job you just know you aren’t qualified for. If you go in chasing the no, not only will you be less fearful of “no’s” over time, but any “yes’s” will also be gravy.

If it’s change itself that has you scared, start by making micro changes that steer you in the direction you want. Test how badly you really do “need” those creature comforts. Once you get used to those changes, you can start making bigger ones, and will have a better idea of what works for you and doesn’t given your early experimentation.

The most important thing is to keep working at it. As Coretta Scott King famously said: “Freedom is never really won, you earn it and win it in every generation.” And so it is in our own lives. Internal freedom is there each and every day for us to earn and win for ourselves.

But first, we must pick up the sword and slay the dragon within.

Don’t Change the Venue, Change You

Tue, 01 Aug 2023 12:30:00 GMT

I've had many conversations recently with friends and acquaintances who are looking to change their jobs, their geographies, or some other aspect of their lives because they are discontented. I encourage them, before making some huge life change, to better understand what they are running to and running from. Moving the location will do nothing if the problem is instead something within.

Seneca, the Stoic philosopher, said it best: "If you really want to escape the things that harass you, what you’re needing is not to be in a different place but to be a different person.” These words resonate with profound truth. Our environment may shape our experiences, but it is our own perspectives and reactions that ultimately define how and what we experience.

Ernest Hemingway echoed this sentiment in his novel The Sun Also Rises : “You can't get away from yourself by moving from one place to another. There's nothing to that.” Hemingway recognized that the key to true contentment lies within each of us, rather than in seeking external changes.

Too often, we blame our circumstances on the world around us when responsibility instead resides inside. It's easy to point fingers at our jobs, relationships, or living situations, believing that changing them will magically solve all our problems. However, this mentality keeps us trapped in a cycle of perpetual dissatisfaction, always seeking something better but never finding lasting fulfillment.

Far from being a problem, this realization is empowering. It means we don't have to change things outside of our control, but rather can do the work that only we can and do control. We have the power to transform our lives by focusing and changing internally.

So, if you're feeling discontented, don't start by looking for a new job or a new city. Start by looking within. What are the things that are causing you unhappiness? Is it the nature of your work, the toxic relationships you've cultivated, or a lack of purpose and meaning in your life? By identifying the root causes, you can begin to address them directly.

Take a moment to envision the future you want. What would it look like if it were to exist today, right here in your current circumstances? Consider the qualities, values, and experiences that would bring you true fulfillment. Rather than fixating on external changes, focus on cultivating those qualities within yourself.

Start by evaluating your mindset. Are things happening “to” you? Don’t accept that. You have choices, even when you feel you do not. You might not like the choices, and the tradeoffs each entail (e.g., a decrease in salary, a less fancy car or home), but you do have choices open to you.

Next, examine your habits and routines. Are there behaviors that contribute to your unhappiness or hold you back? Identify these patterns and make a conscious effort to replace them with healthier alternatives. Even small changes, perhaps only small changes in daily routines can have a significant and long-lasting impact on your overall well-being.

Additionally, nurture your relationships. Surround yourself with positive, supportive individuals who inspire and uplift you. Seek out communities or networks that align with your interests and values. Building a strong support system can provide the encouragement and motivation needed to make meaningful changes in your life. I am not sure if Jim Rohn’s statement that “we are the average of the five people we spend the most time with” has ever been proven true, but it certainly can’t hurt.

Finally, embrace gratitude. Cultivate a daily practice of reflecting on the things you are grateful for, no matter how small, and taking it one step further and expressing that gratitude to others. This mindset shift can transform your perspective, as well as that of those around you, helping increase appreciation of the present moment and contentment in the joy that is ever-present in life, if only we awaken ourselves to it.

Remember, as Hamlet said: “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” This holds as true for where we are as for where we will go. It is our thinking that colors the “goodness” or “badness” of the situation. It's not about changing the external circumstances but rather changing ourselves. By taking responsibility for our own happiness, we gain the power to create the life we truly desire, right here, and right now.

Consistency

Tue, 25 Jul 2023 12:30:01 GMT

Twelve years ago, as I was transitioning from McKinsey to Axiom, my real dream was to be a writer, and so I decided to write. Other than the children’s books I did with Katy ( The Pig and the Hound Series ), my first attempt was a novel that I imagined was going to be Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying meets Styron’s Lie Down in Darkness .

The characters were vivid in my mind, the narrative arc was etched, and the plot twists were envisioned with clarity. Armed with everything I believed I needed, I embarked on my writing journey each day in my makeshift home office. After relentless days and nights of creating and refining, I finally had a draft that I was confident about. Excitedly, I shared it with friends for feedback before making my move towards acquiring an agent or publisher.

One of my friends, also a writer, was the first to respond. Their feedback began with an endorsement of my writing capabilities but then, unexpectedly, descended into a blunt assertion that my novel, Separation , was not the piece of work I should pursue.

“[T]here is absolutely no doubt in my mind that you can write a good novel, and that you will if you so choose,” the email began.

Then the other shoe dropped.

“There is also no doubt in my mind that Separation is not that novel - nor will it, or should it, ever be…I really do think the best thing to do would be for you to start over from scratch and modify your approach.”

The revelation was a crushing blow, but I didn't let it deter me. Instead, I took it as a steppingstone and decided to craft a different novel, which, like the previous one, remains unpublished even today.

Nevertheless, I persisted in my writing endeavors. From contributing to friends’ blogs, posting on LinkedIn, to earning a regular spot with Forbes , to guest pieces on Inc.com and HuffingtonPost my work as a writer continued.

A decade later, I found myself with an agent, a publisher, and a book that made its way to The Wall Street Journal bestseller list. To my surprise and delight, the same friend who had steered me away from my first novel, now wrote:

Hey Andrew,

I just finished reading your book and I really enjoyed it. I was so impressed by how well-written it was - clear, concise, etc. Including worksheets at the end of each chapter was a great idea and really helped me engage with the ideas along the way.

Very well done!

This heartening moment filled me with a profound sense of gratitude. I could have interpreted the initial criticism as a discouraging hindrance, but instead, I used it as an incentive to improve. I chose to seek the value within the criticism rather than dismiss it. It became a testament to my potential and an impetus to continue striving towards it.

This brings me to my point in sharing all of this – consistency. This piece marks my 52 ^nd post for this blog, an article published every single week for an entire year. Just like my commitment to write a blog every week, it was not merely the desire to write but the consistency in doing so that propelled me forward.

Often, when people express their ambition to be a “writer”, “actor”, “athlete”, they're imagining the lifestyle they think is associated with these labels. They overlook that there isn't a singular lifestyle applicable to a profession, e.g., I doubt Martin Amis’s days looked much like those of Margaret Atwood. Regardless, none of these are about the lifestyle, but rather it is the dedication to the process and the consistent effort that defines an individual's professional identity. It’s what they do.

Look, I am no Marcel Proust when it comes to writing, I know that. I also know that if I continue to consistently work at it, I can be a better writer next year than I am this year, and a much better writer ten years from now. This isn’t necessarily to chase nice messages from my readers (though those do feel amazing if I am being honest). Rather, it is because I have stories, ideas, and feelings I feel I must get out and share with the world because they can be of benefit to others, and at present this is my medium for doing so. The more I do it, the more consistently I do it, the better I will hopefully become, and the greater the impact I can have.

So, on this one-year anniversary of the blog, a big thank you to YOU for joining me on this journey as I work to consistently get better for your sake, and for mine.

The Stakes Are High, the Water’s Low, but This Love is Ours

Tue, 18 Jul 2023 12:30:00 GMT

Love has long been a favorite subject, inspiring countless poems, songs, and stories throughout history. Yet, more often than not, we confine love to a simple emotion or sentiment, failing to recognize its true essence. What if, at its core, love is not just a fleeting feeling that overcomes us in the presence of "the one," but rather an action, a verb that requires conscious effort and intention?

Several years ago, a friend challenged my understanding of love. He emphasized that love is not a stagnant noun but an active verb that demands continuous effort and engagement. Initially, his words puzzled me, raising questions about loving someone who undergoes changes over time.

I asked, "What if you still love that person, but they are a different person now?"

"You're missing the point," he replied. "Love is not merely a feeling; it's an action."

Suddenly, it clicked. Love was not about the other person; it was about me. Love was not just about how I felt toward someone; it was about what I did. Love resided in the actions and choices I made. While much has been written about distinguishing "love" from "lust," we must also explore the distinction between love as a feeling and love as an action. Love as an action requires deliberate choices to extend kindness, compassion, and understanding to others.

As the Stoic philosopher Seneca wisely stated, "If you wish to be loved, love." Love, much like kindness, starts with us. It begins as an internal transaction but quickly grows and expands as the love and kindness we put out into the world compound, enriching both the giver and the receiver.

In a world consumed by the pursuit of self-improvement, we often find ourselves questioning the purpose behind it all. What are we striving to improve? Why are we doing this? Here, Seneca comes to our aid once more: "If nothing else, make your progress for this reason: to learn how to love." But why do we need to learn how to love? Shouldn't it come naturally to us as human beings?

Perhaps, but in a society that glorifies cynicism and paranoia as signs of intelligence, we seem to have lost touch with our inherent capacity for love. Rumi, the celebrated poet, observed, "Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." Rumi's profound words remind us that our quest is not to seek love externally but to confront and overcome the internal obstacles that hinder us from fully embracing love—barriers we construct counterproductively throughout our lives. Through introspection and self-awareness, we can begin dismantling these walls and allowing love to flow freely.

If love is so natural, how do we lose it? Love as an action, much like physical exercise, requires consistent practice to strengthen its influence in our lives. Neglecting to nurture our ability to love can result in its atrophy. By actively engaging in acts of love every day, we exercise and fortify our capacity for compassion, empathy, and connection. The more love we give, the more our capacity to love expands, enriching our lives and fostering a world abundant with its infinite resources.

Love is not meant to be hoarded or reserved solely for a select few in our lives. Instead, it flourishes when shared generously and freely. By extending love beyond our immediate circles, we contribute to a ripple effect that transcends boundaries and positively impacts the lives of others. Love possesses transformative power, creating a chain reaction of kindness and compassion, nurturing a harmonious and interconnected world.

In a society where phrases like "nice guys finish last" prevail, embracing love as an action challenges us to unlearn the barriers we have constructed and reconnect with our innate capacity for compassion. Love, as a verb, demands daily practice and conscious effort to strengthen its influence. By embracing love as a muscle, we cultivate a reservoir of compassion that, when freely given and shared, has the potential to transform our relationships and communities. However, first and foremost, we must transform ourselves and expand our capacity to love.

As we reflect on the power of love as an action, let us remember that love is not a finite resource to be conserved but an infinite wellspring within each of us. It is through acts of love, big and small, that we contribute to a world brimming with empathy, understanding, and kindness. Let us break down the walls that hinder us, allowing love to flow freely and abundantly. In this lifelong journey of learning to love, may we find joy, fulfillment, and a profound sense of interconnectedness.

Love is not merely a feeling; it is the very essence of our humanity. So let us embark on this transformative path, together, and make the world a better place—one act of love at a time.

The Things We Know

Tue, 11 Jul 2023 12:30:00 GMT

As the quote often attributed to Mark Twain goes, "It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so." This quote speaks to the idea that what we believe to be true can be more dangerous than what know we don't know. It is easy to fall into the trap of assuming we have all the answers, but in doing so, we close ourselves off to the possibility of learning and growth. Taking the approach of a scientist in life can help us avoid this trap by encouraging us to constantly question what we think we know and remain open to new information and perspectives.

The scientific method is a tool used by scientists to systematically test hypotheses and theories. It involves several steps, including making observations, forming a hypothesis, testing the hypothesis through experimentation, analyzing the data, and drawing conclusions. The key aspect of the scientific method is that it is designed to prove what we believe to be true is wrong, rather than to prove it right.

This approach can be applied in life by constantly questioning our assumptions and beliefs. It requires us to be open to the possibility that what we think we know may not be entirely accurate. By doing so, we remain curious and open to new ideas and perspectives.

The pursuit of truth is not a single point but rather like an asymptote. An asymptote is a curve that approaches a line but never touches it. Similarly, our understanding of truth is something that we can approach but never fully grasp. The scientific method allows us to get closer to the “truth” by constantly questioning what we "know" and seeking new evidence to support or refute our beliefs.

This approach requires humility. It is essential to recognize that we do not have all the answers and that there is always more to learn. In doing so, we can remain open-minded and avoid becoming complacent in our knowledge. Humility allows us to remain curious and engaged, seeking out new information and perspectives that can challenge and expand our understanding of the world.

The scientific method can also help us avoid the pitfalls of confirmation bias. Confirmation bias is the tendency to seek out information that confirms our pre-existing beliefs and ignore information that contradicts them. By following the scientific method, we actively seek out information that may challenge our beliefs instead. This makes us more receptive to this challenging new information and makes it less likely we will dismiss it out of hand as contradictory to what we “know” and want to believe.

Taking the approach of a scientist in life can help us avoid the trap of assuming we have all the answers, or even any of the “final” answers. It requires us to remain open-minded and curious, constantly questioning what we think we know and seeking out new evidence and perspectives. The scientific method can be a valuable tool in this pursuit, allowing us to systematically test our hypotheses and theories and avoid the pitfalls of confirmation bias.

If done properly, the pursuit of truth is a never-ending journey. With this mindset we can continue to grow and learn throughout our lives. As the great philosopher Socrates once said, "The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing."

The Joy Paradox

Tue, 04 Jul 2023 12:30:00 GMT

In the pursuit of understanding joy, we are faced with a paradox: joy can only be experienced or analyzed, but not both simultaneously. Jiddu Krishnamurti, a philosopher, emphasized the immediacy of joy, warning that overthinking transforms it into mere pleasure. He wrote: "You cannot think about joy. Joy is an immediate thing and by thinking about it, you turn it into pleasure. Living in the present is the instant perception of beauty and the great delight in it without seeking pleasure from it."

According to Jiddu Krishnamurti, joy defies conceptualization. It is a direct experience that transcends intellectualization. Attempting to grasp joy through analysis or reflection robs it of its essence, transforming it into a more superficial form of pleasure. True joy arises from being fully present, engaging with the beauty of the moment without seeking personal gratification. In this state, the immediacy of joy reveals itself, and we become participants rather than observers.

In much the same way, the Heisenberg uncertainty principle, a cornerstone of quantum physics, asserts that the simultaneous measurement of an object's position and velocity is inherently uncertain. This principle challenges the classical notion that every physical property can be measured with complete precision. Instead, it highlights the intimate relationship between particles and waves at the subatomic level, where exact position and velocity become meaningless concepts.

The principle's relevance to joy lies in its assertion that the act of observation inevitably alters the observed object. Just as measuring the position of a subatomic particle disturbs its velocity, attempting to scrutinize and analyze joy diminishes its essence. Joy thrives in its natural habitat—the present moment—and the act of dissecting it leads to a distorted understanding that fails to capture its true nature.

This truism about observation altering what is being observed is not merely theoretical. As a series of studies conducted in the 1920s demonstrated, the act of measurement does indeed influence the phenomenon being observed at the human level as well. In an industrial setting, altering lighting conditions increased workers' productivity, regardless of whether the lights were brightened or dimmed. This unexpected result highlighted the influence of novelty and attention on human behavior. This later became known as the Hawthorne effect.

This phenomenon mirrors the essence of joy. Just as the Hawthorne effect reveals that the attention given to workers increased their productivity, the act of analyzing joy detracts from the experience itself. Joy thrives when fully embraced, lost in the present moment, rather than being subjected to analytical scrutiny.

While it is essential to acknowledge and appreciate moments of joy, it is equally vital to surrender to them completely. Intellectualizing joy distances us from the actual experience, fragmenting it into a realm of thoughts and analysis. In contrast, true joy emerges when we immerse ourselves in the moment, allowing it to wash over us without the interference of rationalization.

In those unguarded moments of pure presence, we immerse ourselves in the boundless beauty of joy. It is in these precious instants that we transcend the limitations of thought and embrace the fullness of our being. Rather than dissecting joy with the sharp edges of analysis, we surrender to its embrace, becoming one with its essence. By relinquishing the need to grasp joy intellectually, we invite it to flow through us, unencumbered and unfiltered.

Ultimately, joy is not a puzzle to be solved or a concept to be understood; it is a gift to be experienced. It defies measurement, slipping through the fingers of analytical scrutiny. Instead, joy invites us to fully participate in life, to dance with abandon and savor each precious moment as it unfolds as Lee Ann Womack encouraged us to do.

In the symphony of existence, joy plays a vital role, harmonizing our souls and infusing our lives with meaning and purpose. It is in the surrender to joy's ineffable presence that we discover its transformative power, awakening our senses to the richness and beauty that surround us.

So, let us release the need to dissect and analyze joy, and instead, let us embrace it fully, allowing it to ignite our spirits and guide us on a journey of authentic living. For in the realm of joy, we find liberation from the confines of the mind and the boundless freedom to simply be.

Give a Little Bit of Your (Stress) to Me

Tue, 27 Jun 2023 12:30:00 GMT

In life, we often strive for a stress-free existence, believing that a tranquil and peaceful state is the ultimate goal. However, the reality is that stress, when experienced in moderation, can actually be beneficial to both our physical and mental well-being. Walt Disney once said, "All the adversity I've had in my life, all my troubles and obstacles, have strengthened me... You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you." This profound statement resonates with the idea that certain challenges and stressors can lead to personal growth and resilience if we allow them to.

One area where stress can be beneficial is physical exercise. When we engage in intense workouts, our bodies experience various markers that seemingly indicate we are on the brink of collapse. Our blood pressure spikes, glucose levels rise, and inflammation surges. However, these temporary periods of intense stress actually serve to make our bodies stronger and more resilient over time. Studies consistently demonstrate the positive effects of exercise-induced stress on the body.

For instance, research has shown that regular exercise improves cardiovascular health by strengthening the heart muscle and increasing its efficiency. Despite the temporary stress placed on the cardiovascular system during exercise, the overall result is a healthier heart and a reduced risk of heart disease. Furthermore, exercise-induced stress triggers the release of endorphins, commonly known as "feel-good" hormones, which help alleviate anxiety and enhance mood. The stress-free life of the coach potato? Not so much.

Likewise, in a society where our environment has become increasingly sterilized and devoid of immune stressors, we are witnessing a rise in autoimmune diseases such as diabetes. The absence of certain stressors weakens our immune system's ability to distinguish between harmful pathogens and harmless substances, leading to misguided attacks on healthy tissues. Similarly, studies have found that children who grow up with dogs, exposed to the allergens they carry, are less likely to develop allergies later in life. These findings highlight the importance of encountering manageable stressors that strengthen our immune system's response and prevent it from overreacting.

Just as stress can have positive effects on the body, it also plays a crucial role in maintaining our mental health. While chronic stress is undoubtedly harmful, intermittent and manageable levels of stress are necessary for personal growth and resilience. Challenges and difficulties push us beyond our comfort zones, encouraging adaptation and the development of coping mechanisms. Through facing adversity, we learn to navigate life's uncertainties with greater ease and composure.

Moreover, stress can stimulate creativity and innovation. When faced with a problem or a deadline, a certain level of stress prompts our brains to enter a heightened state of alertness. This state, often referred to as the "fight-or-flight" response, allows us to think more quickly, focus intensely, and generate new ideas. Stress can be a catalyst for breakthroughs and novel solutions that we might not have discovered in a stress-free environment.

While stress may seem daunting in the moment, it is essential to recognize its potential for personal growth and development. Walt Disney's wise words remind us that the obstacles and challenges we face can strengthen us in ways we may not immediately realize. Stress, when experienced in moderation, both physically and mentally, acts as a catalyst for growth and resilience. Embracing stress and viewing it as an opportunity rather than a burden can empower us to face life's difficulties with a newfound strength and determination.

All this to say that stress, in moderate amounts, is not only beneficial to our overall well-being, but necessary to it. Although chronic stress is detrimental, embracing the occasional stressors that come our way can lead to remarkable personal development physically and mentally. We can’t all be Walt Disney, but we do all have the ability to pause and see the stress that comes our way as a potentially good thing, and maybe that can give us each a little of the magic he possessed.

Just Keep Dancing Like I'm...42

Tue, 20 Jun 2023 12:30:00 GMT

On this, my forty-second birthday, have I indeed found “the meaning of life, the universe, and everything,” as Deep Thought might have predicted?

Probably not, but I have at least learned some things that should prove useful in whatever years I have from here. The one lesson I will focus on this year? That of achieving my potential.

As human beings, we all have a natural desire to reach our full potential. Rollo May, the famous psychologist, once said that "One central need in life is to fulfill its own potential." This statement resonates with many of us, as we all strive to make the most of our lives. However, fulfilling our potential is not an easy task, and it requires us to make some difficult choices along the way.

Doris Lessing, the Nobel Prize-winning author, once said that "There is only one real sin, and that is to persuade oneself that the second best is anything but second best." This statement is particularly relevant when it comes to fulfilling our potential, but I would argue in the opposite way that Lessing might have intended. To achieve our goals, we need to accept and even embrace second best in many areas of our lives. We need to direct our focus towards the thing, or at the most, a small subset of things, that matter most to us and accept that we will not be the best at everything.

I have repeatedly learned this lesson firsthand. To fulfill my own potential, I had to direct my focus towards what mattered most to me and recognize that other potentials would fall by the wayside. For example, I love playing sports, but I realized that I couldn't be the best at all of them. I eventually chose swimming as the sport I wanted to focus on and direct all my training and effort towards, and this came at a cost. My skills and competitiveness in basketball, soccer, and much else, all suffered as a result, but this was a tradeoff I knowingly and willingly made.

Singular focus is something those at the pinnacle of their respective pursuits know well. As Warren Buffett famously said: "The difference between successful people and really successful people is that really successful people say no to almost everything." For example, Lionel Messi, one of the greatest football/soccer players of all time, is competitive when he plays other sports, but he explicitly does not put focused training and effort into those areas. He directs all of his energy towards football/soccer, the area in which he wants to achieve his full potential. He is comfortable and probably happy to accept second best (or worse) in other areas.

The same is true for all of us. Trying to find the right “balance” that allows us to achieve the most in every area is a fool's errand. Instead, we need to identify for ourselves what potential we want to fulfill and find the equilibrium that allows us to do that without creating harmful situations in other areas.

Can we have it all? Yes, if "all" is defined as what gets all of our focus. But can we have all of everything? No, and deluding ourselves that we can is a recipe for discontentment and failure. To reach Rollo May's full potential requires us to see Lessing's second best for what it is and make it okay.

This being my 42 ^nd birthday in particular, I am also reminded of perhaps the most famous athlete to wear that number: Jackie Robinson. Robinson is widely regarded as one of the best baseball players of his time, but he was far more than that, and in many ways may seem to undermine my entire argument for focus. In college, he became UCLA's first athlete to win varsity letters in four sports: baseball, basketball, football, and track. He even won the 1940 NCAA championship in the long jump. After college, he played professional football before breaking the color barrier in professional baseball.

Even after his record-breaking baseball career, Robinson continued to excel in other areas. He became the first black television analyst in MLB and the first black vice president of a major American corporation. Later on, he helped establish the Freedom National Bank, an African-American-owned financial institution based in Harlem, New York.

However, I would argue that Robinson proves the point I am trying to make here – that reaching our full potential requires focus and discipline. While Robinson was great at four sports at the same time, including winning the NCAAs, being the best of his time in one area required the focus of saying no to other pursuits and going fully into baseball alone. His business career also came after his playing career was over, allowing him to give it his full focus to reach his own full potential.

While few of us have the potential of Jackie Robinson in a single area, much less the many in which he excelled, we all have the ability to achieve our own full potential with the same focus and discipline he modeled. That personal potential resides within us all. However, fulfilling our potential requires us to make difficult choices and persuade ourselves that second best in other areas is not only acceptable, but even desirable.

Embracing the (forty) second best is my birthday present to myself.

One Year On

Tue, 13 Jun 2023 12:30:00 GMT

One year ago was the official publication date for my first (published) book: Get Out of My Head: Creating Modern Clarity with Stoic Wisdom . Twelve months on from that milestone, now seemed a good time to assess what bringing that book into the world has meant, and what it hasn’t, at least so far.

The Questions

Being the parent of an only child, the question I constantly receive is, “Are you having another?” Ignoring the inappropriate nature of this highly personal question, it does make me wonder just why so many people are interested in the number of progeny Katy and I produce.

Having now published a single book (ignoring a self-published children’s book Katy and I wrote with illustrations by her uncle), the question seemingly on everyone’s lips is, “Are you writing another?”

Maybe I am reading too much into it, but the striking similarity to the question about another child makes me think the question is less about me per se, and more about the mindset of our culture at the moment. In a world where we wear busyness as a badge of honor, none of us it seems has earned the right to stop and enjoy what we have done so far, but instead must constantly look to what comes next. Look, my personal #1 value is “Growth,” so I get it. But seriously, can’t a guy take a breather?

As this blog attests, I enjoy writing for its own sake. I wrote two novels, three children’s books, and one non-fiction book before writing Get Out of My Head , so yes, the chances are that I will write another book. For now, however, I am going to enjoy this moment, and do what I can to get what I believe to be a powerful message out to more people.

The Work

Having never published a book before, I naively thought the “hard work” was in the writing. Oh, how wrong I was. The writing has an end date. Once you publish, once the presses are churning out physical copies of the book you created, once you "release" your book to the public, that part of your job is done. The promoting part? That part of the work is just getting started.

In writing a book like Get Out of My Head the entire purpose is to positively impact people’s lives. Spending the time and effort required to put it together, rather than just a series of blog posts, is only justified, or at least was for me, by the belief that through the book I could and would positively impact more people’s lives than otherwise.

But the book itself of course will not and cannot impact anyone’s life. It is inert. The book must be read (or listened to as the case may be) by people for them to learn what is inside. This means that the work of promoting the book and its concepts never ends, nor should it.

The Impact

Going into pub date I didn’t have any clue how the book would be received. The lessons shared made a huge difference in my own life, as well as the lives of the people profiled, but what would others think?

The number of messages I have received over the year could not be more gratifying on this front. I believed “mental tenancy” was a thing many struggled with. The outpouring of gratitude and stories of the application of the concepts immediately into people’s lives with positive results were everything I hoped and dreamed for from the endeavor and more.

Continuing and expanding that impact is what makes the lesson above ( The Work ) one I really take to heart. That part of the writing/publishing journey is still just getting started.

The Same

As with so much else, the day of publication, and the day after, and the week after, and the year after, really is not so different than the days, weeks, or years before it. Sure, now I can say on LinkedIn that I am a “published author,” but I am not big on labels , and no one cares, nor should they.

I didn’t expect any wild changes in my life, nor did I want any. I love my life. I share this more for any reader who thinks that doing X will lead to some dramatic and immediate change. There is no such thing, at least that is lasting. Lasting change comes in increments, and compounds with time.

Whether it’s a book, a new job, a new relationship, or something else entirely yes, some things will change, but in the near term, likely less than you often think. In the long term, though, the change is likely to be even greater than you or I can conceive today.

I don’t know what lessons I will have in five years, ten years, or more from now, but I am sure curious to find out.

We're Here Again...And It Feels Like A Reunion

Tue, 06 Jun 2023 12:30:00 GMT

"Comparison is the thief of joy." This proverb is as true today as it ever was. And nowhere is it more evident than at reunions.

Whether it's your high school reunion, college reunion, or even a work reunion, it's easy to get caught up in comparing yourself to others. You see what they've accomplished in their lives, and you start to wonder if you're measuring up.

This is especially true in an environment like Harvard, where I had the privilege this past weekend of attending my 20th(!) reunion. Harvard is a place where people are driven to succeed. They're the best of the best, and they're constantly striving to be better.

This can lead to a lot of pressure to perform. You feel like you must prove yourself to your classmates, your professors, and even yourself.

But the truth is, you don't need to prove anything to anyone. You are enough, not objectively, but more importantly in this context, subjectively, because you are the only you there is.

Maturity means no longer doing things to prove yourself to others. It means being content with your own life, regardless of what others are doing.

Of course, it's easy to say this, but it's harder to do. It takes a lot of self-awareness and self-acceptance. This is one area where the gap in knowledge and action can take decades to close.

But it's worth it. When you stop comparing yourself to others, you can finally start living your own life. You can focus on your own goals and your own happiness, as you define them, not as others do, or more likely you just think they do.

Social media can make this even more difficult. We're constantly bombarded with images of other people's “perfect” lives. It's easy to start to believe that our own lives are lacking.

But remember, social media is only a highlight reel. It doesn't show the mundane 99% of life. It's designed to make us feel inadequate.

So don't fall for it. Don't compare yourself to others. Just focus on living your own best life, because definitionally that is the life you are living. It is entirely your own, and as that singular life, it is definitionally the best there is right now (though of course you can shape it and change it with time, but that is a subject for another time).

Stoicism, Buddhism, and Taoism all offer similar advice on the what it takes to achieve happiness and contentment. They all teach that it is not about adding to what you have, but rather subtracting from what you want.

The most impactful subtraction of all? Wanting to prove yourself to your classmates from decades ago.

Let go of that need to prove yourself. It's holding you back from being present within and thus living your best life.

Focus on your own happiness, contentment, and fulfillment and don't worry about what others are doing. You are enough, just as you are.

Sitting at dinner the final night of the reunion, I was speaking with a friend’s wife. "I keep my sea foam Prius,” she told me, “because it embarrasses me. It proves I still have work to do."

We all have work to do. We're all on a journey of self-discovery and self-improvement.

Don't let anyone, and especially that voice inside your own head, tell you that you're not good enough.

You are enough.

You are you, the only you.

You have nothing to prove to anyone, including yourself.

That is true today, tomorrow, and at your next reunion, five years or fifty years from now.

In Defense of the Dilettante

Tue, 30 May 2023 12:30:00 GMT

When you think of a dilettante, what comes to mind? I imagine it is anything but a compliment. It is someone with no depth, who flits around at the superficial. According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary , the first definition provided of a dilettante is "a person having a superficial interest in an art or a branch of knowledge."

So far, so obvious. The question comes, is this negative connotation warranted? Indeed, the word's origin is very different, and it had a positive connotation when it was first introduced into English in 1733. It meant "an admirer of a fine art, literature, science, etc., one who cultivates an art or literature casually and for amusement." At that time, it was a borrowing of Italian dilettante "lover of music or painting," from dilettare "to delight," and from Latin delectare "to allure, delight, charm, please." Why would this be a bad thing? Surely pursuing delight, cultivating oneself for amusement, shouldn’t be something we look down upon, right?

Being a dilettante, in its original meaning, is not something to be ashamed of. It means being a devoted amateur, someone who cultivates a particular field or art for pleasure and enjoyment, rather than for professional reasons. The negative connotation of the word emerged in the late 18th century by contrast with professional, implying that dilettantes were superficial and affected dabblers.

But is anything but a professional unworthy? What is wrong with being an amateur? Must we get paid to derive meaning, or is embracing the pure joy, the delight, of the activity in question enough?

There is an immense joy and transformative power in lifelong learning, and becoming a beginner in the process. When we take on the role of a beginner, of a dilettante, we are able to think more like children freed from preconceptions, unburdened by expectations. As we age, we should not stick to what we already know and are good at. We should stretch ourselves and our minds. We should become beginners over and over again.

Tom Vanderbilt points out in his book Beginners: The Joy and Transformative Power of Lifelong Learning t hat Nobel laureates are 22 times more likely than average to be amateur actors, dancers, magicians, or other types of performers. Sure, being pro in something makes sense. However, leaving room to be an amateur in other areas also has its benefits. This indicates that being a dilettante can be a powerful source of inspiration and creativity, leading to achievements that might not have been possible otherwise.

When we become too focused on our professional lives, we can lose sight of the pleasures and benefits of being a dilettante. Our life should not be one long marathon where we pick one thing and grind through it to the end, but rather more like High-Intensity Interval Training (HIIT), where we mix things up and continually challenge ourselves. We should cultivate our interests and passions, whether they are related to our profession or not, and allow ourselves the freedom to explore new things and experiment.

Learning, and becoming a beginner in the process, is not just for the young. It should be a lifetime sport for us all. The benefits of being a dilettante go beyond personal fulfillment and creativity. It can also lead to a more well-rounded and engaged society. When people pursue their interests and passions, they bring a diversity of perspectives and experiences to the table, which can lead to innovation and progress.

All of this to say that the dilettante has been unfairly maligned to date, and I believe we should welcome, encourage, and celebrate dilettantism going forward. Being a dilettante allows us to develop and maintain a “beginner’s mindset.” It helps us to approach the world with fresh eyes, and to cultivate our interests and passions without the pressure of professional expectations. It is a powerful source of inspiration and creativity, leading to personal fulfillment and potentially even groundbreaking achievements. Learning, and becoming a beginner in the process, is not just for the young, but for everyone who seeks a more well-rounded and engaged life.

Examining Life

Tue, 23 May 2023 12:31:24 GMT

As human beings, we possess a unique capacity to examine our lives, to ask questions, and to make meaning out of our experiences. This capacity is what makes us stand out from other animals.

It is also not a given that we all will make ample use of this capacity. In fact, it is rare enough that we do that Socrates felt it necessary to point out: "The unexamined life is not worth living." The idea is that if we don't take the time to reflect on our lives, then what was the point of it all?

At the same time, if all we do is examine, then we never actually live. We can get caught up in analyzing our past mistakes or worrying about the future, and in doing so, we miss out on the present moment. We may feel like we're making progress by examining our lives, but we're not actually creating anything or making anything happen.

So, what's the solution? How do we strike a balance between examination and action? The key is not to worry about “balance,” but rather to find an equilibrium that works for us. This equilibrium is not static, but changes with time. At certain points in our lives, we may need to examine more and act less, while at other times, we may need to act more and examine less. The important thing is to be aware of where we are in our lives and what we need at that moment.

Examination is critical because we don't want to mindlessly go through our days. We want to be intentional about our lives and create something meaningful. This requires us to examine our beliefs, our values, and our actions to see if they align with what we want to create. We can't create great art, a great business, or a great life without examining what "great" in that context means to us.

For example, let's say we want to create a great business. We can't just jump in and start doing things without examining what "great" means in that context. We need to examine our competition, our market, and our customers to see if we're offering something unique and valuable. We need to examine why we are doing it in the first place to be more certain the destination is one we wish to even reach.

At the same time, we also can't spend all our time examining, reliving, and replaying the past, or daydreaming solely about the future. We need to take action to make our dreams a reality. We need to put in the hard work to create something meaningful. This means taking risks, making mistakes, and learning from our failures. We need to be willing to get our hands dirty and do the hard work of actually creating.

The point is that examination and action are not mutually exclusive. We need both to create something meaningful. We need examination to guide our actions and ensure that we're creating something that aligns with our values and goals. We need action to bring our ideas to life and make them a reality.

But how do we know when we've examined enough and it's time to take action? The answer is different for everyone, but the key is to be aware of our tendencies. Some of us may be more prone to overthinking and examining, while others may be more prone to impulsively taking action without enough examination. What is required is to be mindful as we proceed, and to adjust as needed as we go.

It's also important to remember that examination and action are not a one-time event. We need to continually examine our lives and our actions to see if they're aligned with what we want to create as what we want changes over time. We need to take action to make our dreams a reality, but we also need to continually examine our progress to see if we're still on the right path.

So yes, of course Socrates was right when he said, "The unexamined life is not worth living.” At the same time, all examining and no doing make Jack a dull boy. Find your own equilibrium, and adjust as needed, to make sure you are both examining and living a worthwhile life.

End Goals

Tue, 16 May 2023 12:30:00 GMT

“Rise and grind” is a common refrain these days. We often hear it as an encouragement to put our heads down and just do the work. However, it's easy to lose sight of what our goals actually are if we spend all our time with our heads down in execution. To be successful, we need to know where we are going. Without a clear destination in mind, we may end up grinding ourselves down without ever achieving what we set out to do. As Yogi Berra supposedly said: “if you don’t know where you’re going, it’s unlikely you will get there.”

To start with the end in mind, we need to first define our destination. This means setting a goal or outcome that we want to achieve. It doesn't have to be extremely detailed or precise early on, but it should be clear enough to guide our actions. At this early stage even a general idea is helpful. It doesn’t have to have the specificity of 11.37° North. A simple “North” is enough to get you moving in the right general direction. For example, if we want to start a successful business, we should think through what that business will look like and what it will accomplish. This could involve creating a business plan, conducting market research, setting specific revenue targets, and crucially identifying the “why” behind the entire endeavor. Just as Socrates said of the unexamined life, the unexamined business is not worth building.

Once we have an idea of our destination, we can begin to plot a course. This is where the second step comes in: identifying the first step. It's important not to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of steps between "here" and "there" at this stage. As the Chinese philosopher Laozi once said, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." We don't need to have everything figured out right away. We just need to know what the next step is. By taking action, we can build momentum and start making progress towards our destination. Once we take that first step, the second step will become clearer, and so on.

As we continue to take steps towards our goal, we need to stay focused on our destination. It's easy to get distracted or lose sight of what we are working towards. To avoid this, we need to regularly review our progress and assess whether we are still on track. This can involve setting regular checkpoints or milestones to measure our progress, and making adjustments as needed to ensure we stay on course. Being just a few millimeters off with each step can add up to being great distances off course on a long journey. Execute step-by-step, and every now and then, pause to look up and make sure you are staying on the course you set.

At the same time, it's important to be flexible and open to change. Sometimes our goals or circumstances may change, and it's important to be willing to adjust our course as needed. This could involve redefining our destination, taking a different approach, or even abandoning our original goal if it no longer makes sense. We can’t let “past us” tie the hands and feet of the us of today. Deliberately pursuing a destination we no longer want is just as bad as having no destination in mind. In both cases, the work we are doing definitionally will not get us to where we truly want to be.

We need to keep our destination in mind, and we need to give ourselves the grace to change that destination when it makes sense to do so.

And now, time to get moving!

History is Written By the Victors

Tue, 09 May 2023 12:30:07 GMT

It is often said that history is written by the victors. Many times, this is meant to convey the unreliability of the story being told, and recognizing there is a very different story (or stories) not being told at the same time. It is akin to there being three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth. The idea is that the experience is so personalized and individual, that it is impossible for anyone to capture an objective truth given their own personal history, beliefs, feelings, and thoughts.

For all the downsides of this truth of storytelling, and there are many, there is a possible upside when it comes to telling our own stories. None of us gets to dictate all the action in the story that is our life. Our lives are filled with people other than ourselves, thank goodness! Every day the world around us experiences events and circumstances entirely outside of our control.

We could recognize these facts and see ourselves as little more than a leaf falling from a tree that is powerless to control where it lands. Alternatively, we could accept these truths and then decide how we want to spin them in telling the story that is our life, for each of us is the author of our own autobiography, wittingly or not. We are crafting the story in our head even if nowhere else. In this we get to choose the adjectives we use, the color we put on it those events and circumstances whether they were or are in our control or not. If we have the power of the pen, why would we not make it a positive one, one where we have the agency?

As I published Get Out of My Head and did more interviews, one thing I wondered and worried about was how applicable the ideas I shared truly were to people in situations very different from my own. Given what was going on at the time, I specifically wondered if my ideas and exercises had any applicability to people like those in Ukraine who were literally living in a war zone. Sure, this mindset works fine in a rich and safe country, but what about those living in a bunker, or even something less dire?

That led me to play out the alternative. What if everyone in Ukraine resigned themselves to seeing themselves solely as victims after the Russian invasion, and told themselves how unlucky they were to have been invaded but there was nothing to do but lament their fate? Would that have made them safer or the situation better?

Or is recognizing that yes, the invasion is horrible, and yes, I can and will now act to fight against it more productive? Seeing how President Volodymyr Zelensky and the Ukrainian people responded, can there be any doubt as to the correct answer?

The historian, if they are scrupulous, cannot and will not make up events that never occurred or change the “facts on the ground.” The historian does, however, have the power of the pen in deciding how to tell the story of those events. What objective details to include or exclude, what subjective assessments to put upon the events, what adverbs and adjectives to use.

Each of us is our own personal historian. While when reading any history written by someone else, we should keep in mind that “history is written by the victors” as a reminder to be more skeptical than we might otherwise be, when it comes to telling our own tale, we can instead use it to our advantage.

This is my one life. I fully intend to be victorious. At least that’s the story I’m going to keep telling myself.

Playing the Fool

Tue, 02 May 2023 12:30:10 GMT

The great physicist Richard P. Feynman once said, “The first principle is that you must not fool yourself and you are the easiest person to fool.” This statement holds true not only in the field of science but also in everyday life, especially when it comes to making predictions and decisions that shape our actions. It is easy to convince ourselves of what we want to believe and to ignore facts that do not support our beliefs.

This tendency to interpret information in a way that confirms our preexisting beliefs has a name: confirmation bias. The problem with this mindset is that it can lead us to ignore or dismiss evidence that contradicts our beliefs, leading us to make bad decisions and ultimately "fool ourselves" into thinking we are right. This can in turn lead us down a dangerous path where we make decisions based on false assumptions and ultimately suffer the consequences.

Long before this human tendency had a snazzy name, Benjamin Franklin remarked, “So convenient a thing to be a reasonable creature, since it enables one to find or make a reason for every thing one has a mind to do.” As “rational” beings we have the ability to rationalize whatever we want, to find reasons to support any action we want to take, no matter how unreasonable it may seem to others. This is why it is essential to be aware of our own biases and tendencies towards self-deception.

In business, predictions are constantly made, consciously or not, that shape our actions. We predict market trends, consumer behavior, and the success of new products or services. Our predictions often serve as the foundation for business decisions, but they are not always accurate. In fact, they can be completely wrong. This is because our predictions are often based on incomplete or flawed information, and we tend to focus on data that supports our desired outcomes while ignoring data that contradicts them.

And the danger of fooling ourselves is not limited to business decisions. It can also impact our personal lives. We may convince ourselves that a relationship is healthy, even when there are clear signs of dysfunction. We may believe that we are making progress towards our goals, even when we are not taking meaningful action. We may hold on to beliefs that are not supported by evidence, simply because they make us feel better.

The problem with relying on unvetted predictions and beliefs is that they can become self-fulfilling prophecies. If we believe that a product will be successful, we may invest more resources into it, which can make it more likely to succeed. On the other hand, if we believe that a product will fail, we may not invest enough resources into it, which can make it more likely to fail. This is why it is essential to be aware of our own biases and to seek out data that challenges our assumptions.

However, it is not always easy to tell what came first: the prediction or the action. Did we objectively make an assessment and then shape our subsequent decisions based on it, or were we already down a certain path of action, and the predictions are those we want to be true to make our decisions and actions the right ones? How can we avoid falling into the trap of confirmation bias?

The first step is to be aware of the problem. We need to recognize that we are susceptible to this type of thinking and actively work to counteract it. This means being open to new information and perspectives, even if, no, especially when they contradict our existing beliefs.

It also means being willing to change our minds when new evidence emerges. This can be difficult, especially if we have invested a lot of time and resources into a particular strategy or decision. But it is essential if we want to make the best possible choices.

Rarely is it good enough to sit back and wait. Rather, we need to actively seek out diverse perspectives. This means engaging with people who have different backgrounds, experiences, and beliefs than our own. By exposing ourselves to different viewpoints, we can challenge our assumptions and broaden our understanding of the world.

This process can be difficult as our natural tendency will be to push back against people who disagree with us or to think of all the flaws in the arguments that contradict our own thinking. Pausing judgment and being truly receptive to different ways of thinking will make the difference in us growing and learning rather than just retrenching our own flawed way of thinking.

Finally, we need to be willing to admit when we are wrong. This is rarely easy, especially if we have a vested interest in a particular outcome. But it is essential if we want to learn and grow rather than just defend our status quo way of thinking.

It’s not always possible to tell when we are thinking rationally rather than just rationalizing. However, being aware of our own confirmation bias can at least help us not "fool ourselves" quite as much. It is all too easy to find or make a reason for everything we want to do. But if we want to make the best possible decisions, both in business and in life, we need to be aware of this tendency and actively work to counteract it. This means being open to new information and perspectives, seeking out diverse viewpoints, and being willing to admit when we are wrong. By doing so, we won’t always be perfect, but maybe we can play the fool a little less often.

Preparing for Our Finest Hour

Tue, 25 Apr 2023 12:30:00 GMT

No one wishes for a crisis. Whether it be a personal tragedy, a global pandemic, or a natural disaster, the thought of facing difficult times is something we would never hope for ourselves or anyone else. However, it is often in these moments of crisis that we find out what we are truly capable of. As Winston Churchill once said:

To each there comes in their lifetime a special moment when they are figuratively tapped on the shoulder and offered the chance to do a very special thing, unique to them and fitted to their talents. What a tragedy if that moment finds them unprepared or unqualified for that which could have been their finest hour.

One example of someone who rose to the occasion during a crisis is Volodymyr Zelenskyy, the current President of Ukraine. Before entering politics, Zelenskyy was a comedian who was not taken seriously by many. After his election, he was a literal and metaphorical joke to many. However, when a crisis struck his country in the form of a war with Russia, Zelenskyy showed himself and the world what he was truly capable of. He was named the Financial Times “Person of the Year” and topped Politico’s poll of “The Most Powerful Person in Europe” in 2022. It was in his and his country’s most difficult moment that Zelenskyy was able to show, and indeed be , the person he was always capable of becoming. This goes to show that crisis can bring out the best in us and help us reach new heights we never thought possible.

Of course, not all of us will face the level of crisis that Zelenskyy did. However, we can all learn from his example and ask ourselves: what unique talents do we have, and are we honing and refining them so that we are prepared to live our own finest hour? In sports, this is often easier to identify ahead of time. Athletes spend years training and refining their skills so that when they are in the heat of competition, they can perform at their best. Michael Phelps, for example, famously trained with his goggles falling off so that when they actually did so in the Olympics, he was unfazed. A basketball player practicing free throws at the end of practice when they are exhausted, or soccer (football for my non-US readers) players scrimmaging for 100 minutes or more rather than the customary 90, are other examples of identifying the “crises” they might face and preparing ahead of time to rise to that occasion when it is presented.

But what about in our personal and professional lives? What are we doing to prepare for our own moments of crisis? As the Stoic philosopher Seneca wrote, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” We will all have those opportunities when fate taps us on the shoulder, but the question will be whether we have done the preparation needed to be “lucky” enough to make it our finest hour.

One way to prepare for these moments is by developing what has come to be known as a “growth mindset,” as popularized by American Psychologist, Carol Dweck. This means seeing challenges as opportunities for growth and learning, rather than as obstacles to be avoided. By embracing challenges and seeing them as opportunities, we can develop resilience and grit, to steal a term from another American Psychologist, Angela Duckworth. Both are crucial for overcoming difficult times.

Another way to prepare is by building a strong support network that can effectively be your “crisis team.” This team can vary depending on context, like coaches and teammates in a sports setting, colleagues in a professional one, or friends and family across all domains. These are people we know we can turn to for support and guidance in those toughest of times. In a crisis, having a strong support network can make all the difference in helping us navigate difficult times. While it is helpful build these strong bonds before the crisis occurs, research has also found that the adversity itself can help bring a team closer together .

Finally, it is important to continually develop and refine our skills and knowledge. This means staying up to date with the latest trends and developments in our industry and investing in our own personal and professional development. By continually learning and growing, we can stay ahead of the curve and be better prepared for whatever challenges come our way.

So, while we would never wish for a crisis, it is often in these moments of difficulty that we find out what we are truly capable of. By developing a growth mindset, building a strong support network, and continually developing and refining our skills and knowledge, we can be better prepared for our own moments of crisis. As Winston Churchill pointed out, our finest hour may be just around the corner – are we prepared to seize the opportunity when it arises?

Vigilance and Vulnerability

Tue, 18 Apr 2023 12:30:00 GMT

The legendary former Intel CEO, Andy Grove, is famous for saying: “Only the paranoid survive.” In a world of email and phone scams, financial fraud, and a news cycle that only seems to focus on what went wrong rather than right, this may seem sound advice for navigating the perils of our time. However, this mindset can also lead to a life of perpetual stress and anxiety, as we are always on the lookout for potential threats and dangers.

On the other hand, vulnerability could be seen as a weakness, something to be avoided at all costs, especially given the dangers we face. “Don’t let them take advantage of you,” we are told. Is this really the best way to live our lives? Is the price of vigilance really worth the benefit we get from it?

According to research, the answer is often no. While being vigilant can help us avoid potential dangers and problems, it can also lead to chronic stress and anxiety, which can have a negative impact on our mental and physical health. In fact, studies have shown that chronic stress can increase the risk of developing a wide range of health problems, including heart disease, depression, and anxiety.

Furthermore, the constant need to be vigilant can also take a toll on our relationships and our ability to connect with others. When we are constantly on alert, it can be difficult to let our guard down and truly connect with others. This can lead to feelings of isolation and loneliness, which can also have a negative impact on our mental health.

So, what is the alternative? Should we simply throw caution to the wind and embrace vulnerability? While there is certainly a case to be made for being more open and vulnerable, it is important to recognize that there is a cost to this as well.

Being vulnerable means opening ourselves up to the possibility of being hurt, rejected, or disappointed. It means taking risks and putting ourselves out there, even when we know that there is a chance of failure or rejection. This can be difficult, but it can also be incredibly rewarding.

As actor, race car driver, philanthropist, and businessman Paul Newman writes in his memoir: "Have I been screwed a lot? Yes. And while I always say the price of not being screwed is eternal vigilance, eternal vigilance is a very time-consuming and detailed business. Going through receipts, checking out every little thing. It can actually be less painful to be screwed than to look after things. At least sometimes."

In other words, while the cost of vigilance in the rare instance where it is warranted may be worth the price given the downside in that singular instance, the cost of perpetual vigilance can often be higher than the price we pay by allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. While there is certainly a place for vigilance in our lives, it also is important to stay open to new experiences and opportunities.

Maybe this is why I did not continue in my career path as an attorney. It is estimated that less than 10% of contracts result in a dispute at some point. Of those that are not only disputed, but that also have a case filed, it is estimated that less than 5% then go on to trial, the parties being able to work out something between themselves instead. I see that and think, “Less than half of one percent end up in a court case. I am more than 200 times more likely not to have a big problem here. Why waste the time going back and forth on the minutia?”

That is not how a “good” attorney thinks. But that doesn’t mean it should be how we think. Law is one of the few professions where pessimists are more “successful” than optimists. The American Bar Association also found that lawyers suffer greater rates of depression, anxiety, and alcohol abuse than the general population .

This hypervigilance is not free.

So, how can we find this balance, or rather the right equilibrium for us personally? It starts by more actively paying attention. We need to be better at recognizing when we are being overly vigilant or closed off, and spend time thinking through the potential upside, not just the downside. We need to learn to identify the underlying fears and beliefs that are driving these behaviors, and work to challenge and reframe them.

We must also recognize that vulnerability is not a weakness, but rather a strength. When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, we are showing courage and authenticity. We are putting ourselves out there, even when it is scary or uncomfortable. And in doing so, we are opening ourselves up to the possibility of growth, connection, and joy.

In the end, finding our personal equilibrium between vigilance and vulnerability is essential for living a fulfilling and meaningful life.

There are risks in the world. That is a fact. Sometimes we will be burned, but we should not let our vigilance consume us and prevent us from experiencing new things or connecting with others.

It no doubt requires courage to embrace vulnerability given the manifold risks out there. By doing so, and by focusing more on what we have to gain rather than only what we have to potentially lose, we can reduce our stress and anxiety, and increase the potential for joy, contentment, and fulfillment.

Yes, it’s scary, but it’s worth the leap.

Choosing Happiness

Tue, 11 Apr 2023 12:30:00 GMT

“You must be so happy living in Bermuda,” I often hear when I tell people where I now make my home. “It is going to be really hard when you have to leave,” many then follow up.

My response? “It is great here. I am very happy. And I can be happy anywhere. I get to decide that.”

This is a truism I have had to relearn and remind myself of with regularity, and it’s one that I frequently discuss with my daughter, Talulla.

One of the most influential Buddhist teachers of our time, Thich Nhat Hanh, captured this concept perfectly when he said, “There is no way to happiness – happiness is the way.” What he captures more eloquently than I can, is the idea that happiness is not a destination that we can reach, but rather it is a way of being in the world. We can choose to be happy in each moment by accepting the present moment as it is and finding joy in the small things.

Buddhism teaches that the root of suffering is attachment to desires and outcomes. We often believe that we need certain things to be happy, such as a perfect job, a perfect partner, or a perfect life. However, the truth is that these external factors can never truly bring us lasting happiness, as anyone familiar with the hedonic treadmill concept knows well. We must find happiness within ourselves by letting go of attachment and embracing the present moment.

There is a flip side to this as well. I may be misremembering the quote, but a character in Tom Robbins’ Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates expresses a thought that we can be the kind of person who complains about the weather, or not that kind of person. This idea was revelatory to me at the time. Wait! I get to decide if I want to be the kind of person who complains about the weather? Knowing that, how could I ever choose to be that kind of person?

Other belief systems and philosophies beyond Buddhism also support the idea that happiness, and along with it unhappiness, are choices. Stoicism, for example, emphasizes the importance of focusing on what is within our control and letting go of what is not. By accepting that we cannot control external circumstances, we can focus on cultivating a peaceful and contented mind.

Positive psychology also emphasizes the power of choice in happiness. Research has shown that our mindset and thoughts play a significant role in our overall well-being. By choosing to focus on the positive aspects of our lives, we can increase our happiness levels and improve our mental health.

Personally, I have found that practicing mindfulness and gratitude has helped me cultivate greater happiness in my life. Mindfulness for me is about developing the practice of paying attention to the present moment without passing judgment one way or the other. My gratitude practice is a fluid one, alternating between reminding myself of those things for which I am grateful, as well as capturing and reliving those moments when others have expressed their gratitude to me. By practicing these techniques regularly, I have learned to better appreciate the small joys in life like swimming, meditating, or having a tickle fight with Talulla, and to let go of attachment to outcomes.

It is a fact that life will not always be roses, puppies, and sunshine. Life is full of ups and downs, and it’s natural to feel sad or frustrated at times. However, even in the midst of difficult circumstances, we can choose to focus on what we are grateful for and find moments of joy. Being able to discuss and work through these things with my seven-year-old daughter has helped. As a child, where you feel the lack of agency perhaps more than at any time during life, the frustrations are manifold. Talking to her about how even in those times she is the one with the power to decide if she will be happy or not helps her reclaim that lost agency and provides me with a good self-reminder at the same time.

To finish where we started, yes! I am indeed happy living in Bermuda. And yes, I still encounter frustrations that could detract from that happiness if I choose to allow them to do so. As my wife, Katy, is the first to remind me, I am far from great at this (yet), but for now, both for myself and to try and model the same for Talulla, I choose happiness, not as a destination, but, as Thich Nhat Hanh would say, as the way.

To Accept or Not?

Tue, 04 Apr 2023 12:30:00 GMT

Most people reading this will be familiar with the Serenity Prayer.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.

This sentiment is one that has served people for millennia and is key to helping people achieve “inner tranquility and outer effectiveness,” to quote the Stoic philosopher Epictetus.

And yet, this approach can be taken to the extreme. It can be an excuse for doing nothing, and for justifying the status quo, regardless of how unsatisfactory that status quo is. No doubt it was in the face of this mindset that Angela Davis very famously wrote: “I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept.” After all, this is how progress is made. Acceptance is a reasonable approach to those things you cannot control, but as George Bernard Shaw pointed out, “all progress depends on the unreasonable man.”

How can these two approaches be reconciled, and should they? For me, the answer comes down to another ancient figure, this time the Buddha. Rather than relying solely on the false dichotomy that Epictetus and Angela Davis set out, the Buddha identified a third way. “There are three solutions to every problem: accept it, change it, or leave it. If you can’t accept it, change it. If you can’t change it, leave it.”

The Buddha’s approach gives us a sort of decision tree. For inner peace, we should start with trying to accept what is. However, there are times when what is will go against our moral fabric. We will simply be unable to accept it, as Angela Davis pointed out. In these instances, we must work to change it. And if we can’t change it? Well, then instead of spending our time and mental energy on something we do not control, we must learn to leave it alone.

This last transition, from working to change something to leaving it is a curious one. Is the Buddha saying that if we can’t immediately achieve the results we seek, we resign ourselves and move on? That’s not how I take it. I understand the Buddha as acknowledging that the work for change could be in a moment, or it could be the work of a lifetime or many lifetimes. It could be as simple as picking up the wet towel off the floor that your spouse left there (again), or as complex and difficult as addressing centuries of injustice.

The move from acceptance to change to leaving is not about a period of time, or the ease or difficulty of the work involved. Rather, it is about you making your own decision about which path you will choose. If you refuse to accept it, you must work to change it. If you refuse to do the work, or to continue the work until completion, you must choose to leave it alone. Otherwise, spending never ending mental cycles on something that you are not actively pursuing is a waste of your time and mind, both of which can and should be put to better use.

So, what does all of this mean in practice?

First, it is important to recognize that acceptance does not have to mean resignation or defeat. Acceptance can be a powerful tool for finding peace and contentment in the face of difficult circumstances. By accepting the things that we cannot change, we free ourselves from the burden of trying to control things that are outside of our power so that we can instead focus our limited energy on the things that we can control and make the most of our current situation.

Second, despite its benefits, acceptance is not always the best course of action. If we are facing a problem or challenge that goes against our values or morals, we may feel compelled to act no matter how large or daunting the challenge in front of us. In this case, working to change what is may be the right choice. It won’t always be easy. Depending on what we seek to change it could require significant effort and resources, and there is no guarantee of success. However, it can also be a deeply rewarding experience that allows us to make a positive impact in the world. By acting, we can feel empowered and fulfilled, knowing that we are doing our part to create meaningful change.

Third, it is important to recognize that the decision to accept what is or work to change what is does not have to be a permanent one. Sometimes, we may need to accept a situation in the short term to preserve our mental and emotional well-being, while also taking steps to change the situation in the long term. Other times, we may need to work to change a situation that we have previously accepted, as our circumstances or priorities shift.

Ultimately, the decision to accept what is or work to change what is is a personal one, and it is and should be a fluid one. It is something our best thinkers have pondered and struggled with for thousands of years.

As a result, we are now in the fortunate position that we get to draw upon their wisdom and experience to inform our own approach.

Learned Control

Tue, 28 Mar 2023 12:30:01 GMT

In the 1960s, psychologists Martin Seligman and Steven Maier conducted groundbreaking research on the concept of "learned helplessness." Their experiments, which would certainly be deemed inhumane in today’s world, involved exposing dogs to inescapable shocks, then later giving them the opportunity to escape the shocks but finding that they no longer even tried to do so. This led to the theory that helplessness was “learned.” This in turn led to a belief that the experience of being in a situation where one has no control over the outcome could and would lead to a persistent sense of hopelessness and helplessness even in situations where control is actually possible.

However, more recent research by the same Seligman and Maier has upended this theory, suggesting that it is not helplessness that is learned, but rather control or agency. Using technology and techniques that were not available in the 1960s, Seligman and Maier discovered that the default state of the brain is to believe that we have no control over a situation, and that it is only through the process of trying to change the situation and finding that we can indeed have an impact that we learn that we have control instead. They conclude: “the neural circuitry underlying the phenomenon of learned helplessness strongly suggests that helplessness was not learned in the original experiments. Rather passivity and heightened anxiety are the default mammalian reaction to prolonged bad events. What can be learned is cortical—that bad events will be controllable in the future.”

This shift in understanding highlights the importance of taking the first step towards action in any goal-setting process. Given our “default mammalian reaction” is to believe we do not have control, it is only through acting and seeing the impact of our efforts that we learn that we have agency instead. When we start to make progress towards our goals, our brain begins to learn that we have control and that we can influence the outcome. This then gives us more confidence and “learned agency” to carry us forward even further. This learning process is essential for building self-efficacy and maintaining motivation, as it helps us to see that our actions have real consequences and that we can make a positive impact, the exact opposite of our default state and belief system without the necessary action.

In practice this process of learning agency can often be hindered by the high bar we set for ourselves to get started on a task. If the entire endeavor seems too daunting, we may never get started and remain stuck in a state of helplessness. Similarly, if the first step is too ambitious such that even when we act upon it, it does not lead to immediate visible results, we may not trigger the learning process that helps us to understand that we do indeed have control to influence the outcome we seek. This is why it is important to "lower the bar" for what we need to get started, as it allows us to achieve quick wins, build momentum, and trigger that learning that we do have control after all.

None of this is to say we need to or should lower our standards. The end goal may be just as ambitious, our standards just as high. Rather, it is in lowering the bar on what we need to do to get started on our journey towards that goal that we can gain that “learned agency” and increase our odds of achieving our objective. By acting, we trigger the learning process that helps us to understand that we have control, build self-efficacy, and maintain motivation. As we learn the agency we have, we become more confident in our ability to create the future we want, and this newfound confidence helps us to reach new heights that in a virtuous cycle gives us even more confidence to go on. The truth is we always had and have this agency. Now we know how to teach our minds this truth as well.

Imagined Suffering

Tue, 21 Mar 2023 12:30:00 GMT

The Stoic philosopher, playwright, and one-time tutor to a Roman Emperor, Seneca, once wrote that "we suffer more in imagination than in reality." As with so much else when it comes to Stoicism, research is now demonstrating the scientific truth behind this ancient insight.

A study published in the journal Nature Communications found that people experience more stress and anxiety when faced with uncertainty, compared to knowing for certain they will experience a negative outcome. That’s right, knowing for sure you will be hit in the face seems to be less stressful than being told you might or might not be attacked. How is this even possible?

In the absence of certainty, our minds can run away from us. Typically, when it starts running, our mind doesn’t go to the rosiest destinations. The human brain has an innate tendency to imagine and anticipate the worst-case scenarios when things are uncertain. Our loved one doesn’t show up at the agreed upon time? It isn’t that traffic is bad, but rather they have been in a horrible accident and are fighting for survival! This natural tendency leads to an increase in stress levels, as the imagination creates greater pain and suffering than what may actually occur if said event comes to pass. The brain's negative bias towards uncertainty results in people perceiving risks and threats as more significant, even if the chances of the negative outcome are low.

This research highlights the importance of recognizing when our imagination is running away from us and creating suffering that is only in our heads. We can do this by keeping our thoughts grounded in reality and not letting our minds wander into the realm of negatively imagined scenarios. One way to do this is to get out of the world of the imaginary, and start making it R.E.A.L.

The first step is to Recognize what is real and factual versus what is only imagined at this stage. Being able to see where our imagination is creating suffering and acknowledging this is entirely made up at this stage, puts us in a better position to begin limiting the “suffering.” This can be done by being mindful of our thoughts and paying attention to when our minds start to wander into negative and uncertain scenarios.

The second step is to Envision what life would be like if the imagined suffering came to pass, as well as what it would look like if it never came about at all. This may seem counterintuitive. We just said we want to get out of the world of the imaginary and stay fixed in the world of the real. However, the distinction is that we are now in the driver’s seat when it comes to consciously determining the direction of our thoughts rather than passively letting our subconscious take us to its default negative scenarios. This can help us to put things into perspective and see how and where our imagination is often worse than reality. By visualizing the worst-case scenarios, we can also prepare ourselves for them, reducing the stress and anxiety caused by uncertainty.

The third step is to Address what we can control and focus our efforts there to work to prevent the suffering from occurring, or at least to dampen it. This could involve taking action to reduce the risk of the negative outcome, or it could be as simple as consciously accepting the uncertainty and not allowing our imagination to run wild. We don't have to be passive spectators in our own lives; we can take control and shape our reality.

Finally, the fourth step is to Live to the fullest, embracing both the high points and low points. It is important to remember that life will have its ups and downs, and it is crucial to be present to experience them, rather than just imagining past or future such moments in our heads for good or ill. By living in the now, we can experience life in all its richness, rather than being trapped in our own thoughts and imagined scenarios.

All of this to say that, as Seneca observed, we as human beings do indeed default to suffering more in imagination than reality. However, as he would also have been the first to recognize, just because this is our default way of thinking, it need not remain our final way of living. By becoming more aware of when and how our imagination takes us to unhelpful and unnecessary places, we can at the same time regain control of our minds and lives. In short, we can keep things REAL.

A Single Life, Full of Infinite Possibilities

Tue, 14 Mar 2023 12:30:00 GMT

The singularity of this life, and indeed every moment within it, is something I have written about before . The dangers of missing out on living by being so into our own heads that we are left only imagining the future or replaying the past is not a new idea. As Henry David Thoreau wrote nearly two hundred years ago:

You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this.

Thoreau, and many before and since remind us that life is happening right now and that we shouldn't waste it waiting for something better to come along.

And yet, for me, one of the most magical quotes I have ever come across, and one I ponder with regularity, is that from the French poet Paul Éluard. “There is another world,” Éluard points out, “but it is in this one.” This suggests that there is indeed another life other than this one we are living, potentially infinite such other lives. It is just that every single one resides within this same life. We have one life, AND within that one life, we have infinite lives we could be living.

Bringing these two viewpoints together, I believe, offers valuable lessons for how we can live our lives to the fullest.

Thoreau's reminder to live in the present moment is a powerful one. In a world where we're constantly bombarded with distractions and temptations , it's all too easy to get caught up in our thoughts about the past or future and miss out on the beauty of the present. This is a recipe for ineffectiveness and discontent. Research has repeatedly shown that when we focus on the present moment, we experience greater well-being and happiness.

Rather than sit back and imagining what life could be, Thoreau's encourages us instead to live. We should not sit idly on the shore, but rather jump into the water and launch ourselves on “every wave” that life presents to us. There may be islands of opportunities all around us, but none matter other than the island we are on, and the life we are there to live.

On the other hand, Paul Éluard's quote, for me at least, embraces the power and potential inherent in our ability to create our own reality out of the infinite possibilities in front of us. Rather than merely accepting the island we may be presently on as Thoreau would seemingly have us do, Éluard takes an outward view, seeing and recognizing the potential each of these infinite islands could hold for us.

Who is right? The answer is, as it always had to be, both. As much as Éluard’s quote uncovers the infinite possibilities this life holds, the beauty of the quote is that it also recognizes that all these possibilities only do or ever can exist in this single life. As with Thoreau, it matters little what other islands are out there. What matters far more is the life you live, the waves you ride rather than just watch or imagine.

For me, what Éluard's quote adds to that of Thoreau is the idea of agency in shaping this singular life. Rather than just accepting the island we might be on at any given moment in time, Éluard reminds us that there are other islands, islands of our own creation even, and this single life is our only opportunity to ever visit them and experience them.

Research has shown that when we feel like we have control over our lives, we experience greater happiness and well-being . By taking ownership of our life and making intentional choices about how we want to live, we can create a life that is rich and meaningful. Recognizing the island we are currently on, and also determining the waves we will ride to or from other islands of our choosing, puts the agency for creating the singular life that is ours out of the infinite possibilities that sit out there in our hands rather than fate alone.

Yes, embrace the present moment, it is all we ever live. And, yes, embrace that you have the power to change what a future present moment can hold. You cannot always control what waves come at you, but you have the power to decide from which island you will view those waves, and which waves you will choose to ride and when.

So, whether you lean more towards Thoreau and finding your eternity upon the island where you currently reside, or more towards Éluard in finding and living in another world that is in this one should you work to create it, the answer in either case is to jump in the water. Time to start swimming!

Thorny Chores

Tue, 07 Mar 2023 13:30:00 GMT

I find it interesting that the “same” experience can feel so different at different stages of our lives. Certain books we read may fall completely flat at one time and resonate deeply at another. For me, Milton’s Paradise Lost was one such read.

When we “had” to read it in high school I detested it. When I “had” to read it in college, I was awestruck. Wondering what the experience would be when I “chose” to read it, I recently revisited Milton’s masterpiece and was not disappointed. There is a reason this has stood the test of time so well.

There are of course countless memorable lines throughout the epic poem, but one early one hit me with a great deal of force:

The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.

Clearly Milton was a Stoic at heart! It is our own mindset that can and does shape how we view our surroundings, and our lives. We can, and do, make them “better” or “worse” depending on how we choose to view them, consciously or not.

As someone who avidly studies Stoicism, this should not come as any great revelation to me. Well before Milton, Epictetus, Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, and others espoused the same concept. I know this. However, knowing and acting with such knowledge are very different things.

I was reminded of this when around the same time as I was working my way through Milton, I had to tackle a particularly unpleasant chore at home. I will spare you the details, but it was messy, and it smelled horrible. While working through the chore, my attitude was terrible. I was grumbling, I was frustrated, I was angry. At the time, my attitude was not helped by Katy’s reaction to it all. The more frustrated I became, the funnier she found the whole thing. Her unrestrained laughter only made me angrier.

Or did it? It took me two more days, but I finally came to the realization that her laughter didn’t make me angrier. She laughed. That is a fact. It was my response to that laughter that created the frustration and anger. As Milton wrote, I could have used my mind to my benefit, laughing like Katy and making a heaven of that hell, but instead I chose a far less productive route.

This ability reframe how we view the situation is a sort of superpower we, I, too rarely take advantage of. But I am trying to get better. I am working to heed the advice of the French writer Alphonse Karr, who wrote:

Let us try to see things from their better side:
You complain about seeing thorny rose bushes;
Me, I rejoice and give thanks to the gods
That thorns have roses.

Rather than getting myself upset that I “have” to interrupt my life with chores, albeit pretty smelly ones(!), I am working on “rejoicing” in that along with those everyday chores of life, I get to spend that life with a family I deeply love. I will (try) to no longer lament the thorny chores, but rather make a heaven of those hellish thorns by rejoicing in the rosy life that comes along with them.

I know I will not always succeed, but to try is a start. The more I try, the more I work at it, I am certain the better I will become, and the better my life, and my perception of my life will be as a result. I wish you the same.

A Good Story

Tue, 28 Feb 2023 13:30:00 GMT

Humans have a deep-seated love for narrative. We have a desire for storytelling, whether it be over a campfire, in a book, or on the small or big screen. In fact, some argue that storytelling is fundamental to being human . The need for stories is so strong that we will create them to explain our actions and decisions, even when we have no idea why we did the things we did . This is so common it has its own name: confabulation.

Despite this well-observed human tendency to look back to create narrative explanations, for the longest time the scientific community believed in associative or reinforcement learning. This is where there is a trigger (like Pavlov ringing the bell) and then a reward (like giving the dog food). Dogs, humans, and other animals, it was believed, learned by looking forward: there

was the cause, and then there was the effect.

However, more recent research by Huijeong Jeong and Vijay Namboodiri of the University of California, San Francisco suggests that the learning occurs the other way around. The dopamine release we receive at the time of the effect is not making us look forward to the reward, but is rather a sort of bookmark, triggering us instead to look back to the explanation for why this reward occurred. It provokes us to identify, and then to create the story behind it.

This would explain why we can and do create narratives to explain what happened, even when we have no clue. It really is core to being human, or rather core to being a member of the animal kingdom more broadly. What is strange is that we seem to have known and understood this direction of travel for quite some time.

This backwards looking way of creating the stories that explain the results permeates all aspects of our lives. As Nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman says of our political leanings: "Subjectively, it feels like you believe in something because you have the arguments for it. But it works the other way around. You believe in the conclusion, and then you create supporting arguments. That’s fundamental." Again, that "fundamental" word. We fundamentally work backwards from the answer to create the story that is our explanation and justification.

Even before Kahneman there was the psychologist Alfred Adler who said: "Meanings are not determined by situations. We determine ourselves by the meanings we ascribe to situations." We do not come to the meaning based on what came before, but rather we have the meaning, and then we work backwards to create the story to justify that meaning out of how we interpret what came before.

In this, even Adler was late to the game. Thousands of years before psychology was a discipline it was the Roman Emperor and Stoic Marcus Aurelius who wrote: "External things are not the problem. It's your assessment of them. Which you can erase right now." It is great to see that neuroscience research is finally catching up and providing the biological mechanism that explains what the Stoics and others have known for so long to be true.

The ability to shape our own narratives is a powerful tool. It allows us to take control of our lives and see things in a more positive light. We can use this to our benefit and allow ourselves greater agency. By understanding that we are the ones creating the stories that shape our lives, we can choose to make them more positive and empowering.

This is an amazing power. It this shows that we, and we alone, get to create the stories we tell to explain our lives. We get to decide if they are just happening to us, and we lack agency in shaping them, or if they are our lives to live and to be told and interpreted by us.

If we are creating the story one way or the other, why wouldn't we go ahead and make it an epic adventure?

The Limits of Habit

Tue, 21 Feb 2023 13:30:07 GMT

In recent years, harnessing habits has become de rigueur . From the consistently bestselling Atomic Habits by James Clear, to Charles Duhigg’s The Power of Habit , and Gretchen Rubin’s Better Than Before , some of the most popular books of the past decade have focused on why we should be using habits more strategically, and how to go about doing so.

Less talked about, but I think just as important, is the downside of habits. I don’t mean “bad” habits like smoking, chewing your nails, or the like. That is well covered in the books mentioned above as well as many other places besides.

When I say the downside of habits, I mean the risk of living too habitually. I mean what we can and do lose when we let our lives slip too much into executing against what can become a pre-programmed life built solely around our habits. This risk is present whether they be “good” habits like exercise and eating healthy, or “bad” habits like picking our noses.

It was, inevitably, contemplating a quote by Seneca that really drove this home for me.

Working through the Stoic Virtues Journal , I came across the following from Seneca: “Begin at once to live, and count each separate day as a separate life.”

It was paired with another along similar lines from the Buddha: “Every morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.”

Should our days be dictated too much by habit, then we treat them as if they were all the same. They bleed together. This is just another Monday, or Saturday, or Halloween, or New Year. From that input, our “habit program” begins to run, and we go through the motions, each day, month, and year nearly indistinguishable from the last.

Doing this, Seneca, Buddha, and others rightly point out, is to miss out on the new and unique life that every day, indeed every moment, presents to us. Don’t make your days too routine, because your life is the sum of your days, and do you really want your life to be one long routine?

So, who is right? The habit hackers or Seneca and the Buddha?

Perhaps unhelpfully I believe the answer is neither, and it is also both. There is a place for habit, and there is a place for improvisation. In fact, by “preprogramming” some decisions, we might increase our ability to more creatively go off script when and where we want and choose.

A famous example of this is Steve Jobs’ decision to wear the same outfit, jeans and his signature black turtleneck. By making this routine, he freed up his creative capacity for other parts of his life, allowing him to inspire innovations like the iPod, iPad, and iPhone. There are many others who do this, for example eating the same thing each morning for breakfast, or each afternoon for lunch, reducing the cognitive load required to work through things they have deemed less important so that they have greater mental and creative capacity to focus on those things they deem more important.

The essential element is to be deliberate in determining what for you can and should be routine, and to what end. Preprogramming too much of your life into habit can help you more consistently execute against the “function of life,” but it will also deprive you of actually living that life to its fullest. Failing to program enough, and the areas most important to you are unlikely to get the attention they need and deserve.

Get the balance right, however, and habits can form the basis and structure of the blank canvas on top of which each day you can paint anew the masterpiece that is your life.

It is worth noting that what should be a habit and what should not does not have to remain static. Just because you have decided that breakfast is one of those things you want to make habitual, and to be healthy you will always have oatmeal, does not mean that every now and then you shouldn’t go off the rails entirely and have waffles with berries and cream with your daughter!

Yes, there is power in our habits.

And yes, there is also life to be enjoyed by knowing habits’ limits, and when to break them every now and again.

Compounding Love

Tue, 14 Feb 2023 13:30:02 GMT

For almost as long as she could speak, Talulla has been asking for a little brother or sister. Knowing that my in-laws claim Katy begged for the same when she was younger, and also that she now vehemently denies this, I made sure to get this on video early on.

However, in a recent conversation she began to reassess her request.

“I don’t want a little brother or sister,” she informed me.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because then you wouldn’t love me as much.”

Whoa. The fact that I have personally had this same concern, and it made me hesitant to want another child when T was younger? Double whoa.

Anyone who has seen me with T, in person or perhaps even on social media, can hopefully sense just how incredibly much I love her. This has been true from the moment she entered this world. For weeks after she was born, I would tear up when talking about her, or even thinking about her. I would surreptitiously smell my hands throughout the day when I was away from her because my hands smelled like her. I was, and still am smitten.

And one of the most natural things once you have a child is to think about if and when you will have another one (NOTE: This is perhaps literally the most natural thing since our biological imperative is to pass on our genes). People would ask, and I would demur. Thinking about it, I knew how much I loved T, and how much I enjoyed every moment with her.

I also was concerned that this love could be a depletable resource. What if we did have another child, and it took away from the love I could give T? If she was receiving 100% of my love now, then surly anyone else entering the picture with whom that parental love would be split would surely take away from her. That worried me.

The more I spoke with other parents, however, the more I realized this is not actually the case. More children can expand and deepen the love we have and can give. I began to realize the parallels in my love with Katy. Talulla entering the world did not subtract from our love for one another, but rather enriched it. Love wasn’t and isn’t like money or time, where if you spend or give some you have less of it left. It seems to operate in the exact opposite way: the more you give, the more you have to give.

Maybe this is obvious to others already. I am far from the first person to come to this realization. Antoine de Saint-Exupery, author of the The Little Prince , wrote: “For true love is inexhaustible; the more you give, the more you have. And if you go to draw at the true fountainhead, the more water you draw, the more abundant is its flow.” Far from depleting a fixed amount, the more I give my love, the more love I have to give.

This expands beyond my family. We still do not have another child, but expanding my brood or not, the more love I feel, express, and give to my family, the more I find that I feel, express, and give to those around me. In a world where we so often take a mindset of scarcity, it has been enlivening and inspiring to find one resource, and perhaps the most important resource at that, where the stores are not depleted or even simply replenished, but actually expanded and multiplied the more I tap into them.

With that and in closing, I write with love , thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope you can sense my love for you in sharing this, and I hope you will expand on that love and share with others today as well.

The more you do, the more you will have.

Be More Than a Passenger

Tue, 07 Feb 2023 13:30:00 GMT

Roughly 2,500 years ago, Heraclitus wrote: “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.” As individuals we are constantly changing, and hopefully for the better. The same is true for all that surrounds us. The world in which we live, the entire universe for that matter, is constantly in flux. And with this change it is easy to see the passage of time much like that of a flowing river, inevitably heading in a single direction, and us just being carried by the current down the monodirectional stream.

Must this be the case? Must we passively float, the direction of our lives dictated by forces beyond our control or even comprehension? This could certainly get into the realm of debating the concept of free will, something we have not been able to definitively put to rest despite our best minds working on the question for millennia, but I will not pretend I am qualified or justified in attempting to add something new to that well-trod ground.

Instead, I wish to continue with the river metaphor that Heraclitus provides. Our lives can be seen like rivers, our birth serving as the headwater, and our death as the mouth as life pours out of us into the metaphorical ocean of existence. In this, yes, we can pass our time, and thus lives, as mere passengers, but we don’t have to.

We can determine the vessel we will take down the river. Should anything go wrong with it, we can repair or even choose to change vessels as we proceed.

We can float directionless on that vessel, letting the currents take us where they will. Or we can research and shop around to find a trusted navigator or captain to whom we hand the responsibility of steering our vessel.

Alternatively, we can steer or even row our own vessel. We can decide to be our own navigator, serve as our own captain. We can proceed by gut alone, adjusting as things come upon us. Or we can turn to instruments developed by those who have navigated this river before us. We can study and learn about its currents and rapids from materials and documentation by the same.

We can see it as a race, trying to get from start to finish “first.” Or we can see it as a pleasure cruise, soaking in the sights and sounds as we go, docking on the shores occasionally to experience more of a particular place and time.

We can invite others on our vessel to share our journey, and we can tie up to other vessels to enjoy a more communal experience on our journey.

We can dexterously navigate through the dangerous rapids we incur, or not. We can come out the other side battered and bruised, but better informed about how to handle the next rough patch, or we can fall to pieces as our vessel breaks apart, allowing ourselves to be carried beneath the water the rest of the way.

One thing is certain, none of us knows where the mouth of our personal river lies, or when we will pour into it. All we know is that we can’t go back. Given that, shouldn’t we be the ones who decide how we want to steer down these waters, at what pace, and with whom?

Let’s all do Heraclitus one better. Don’t just step into the river, captain your own way down it.

More Than Just a Label

Tue, 31 Jan 2023 13:30:00 GMT

There was a time in my life, and for a time it felt like my entire life, that I was an “athlete.” Or more specifically, I was a “swimmer.” Being a swimmer meant so many things. The constant tiredness from sleep deprivation, early morning practices, and overtraining. The physical and mental fortitude required to train and compete in such a grueling sport that never seemed to have an “off season.” The camaraderie that inevitably developed from spending an absurd amount of time with the same group of people. There was more, positive and negative, and all of it defined who I was. It was my identity.

And then, at the end of my freshman year of college and coming off my most successful season of my life, I got injured. As months passed, and eventually years, and I never regained that prior form, I began to question my identity. I had not just been a swimmer. I was a pretty good swimmer! If I wasn’t that, who was I?

Still being in school, I had a pretty good off the shelf answer at hand. I was a student! This redefinition changed how I approached my studies. I changed concentrations (what Harvard calls majors because, you know, Harvard). I wrote an honors thesis and got a 4.0 my senior year. I aced the LSAT and got into law school. In law school I worked for incredible professors and got to be one of five students selected to spend a year abroad getting a master’s degree at Cambridge. This student identity was working, until it wasn’t.

As much as I loved being a student, eventually even I had to graduate and move on with my life. Then who was I? What would I be? Again, there was a ready-made answer. The consulting firm McKinsey & Company recruited on campus. I became a McKinsey consultant. I wore the dark slacks and blue button downs that are the consulting uniform. I traveled out on Mondays and back on Thursdays and purchased the requisite black Tumi bag to travel with me. I maximized hotel and airline points, and did all the other things a consultant does.

Again, until I didn’t. And so it continued.

Now who and what am I? Am I an entrepreneur? Am I an author? A husband? A father?

No. I am me. I am Andrew McConnell. I am a person who has studied, who has competed as a swimmer, who writes (like what you are reading), who starts and runs companies, who loves his wife and daughter with every ounce of his being and who deliberately and consciously works to demonstrate that with acts, not just words, and a much longer list of things I have done, am doing, and will do.

All these labels are things I do, but they are not who I am. I am no longer defined by labels, even if no one else ever defined me that way, and it was, oh so ironically, all in my head.

It makes me think back to Scott Adams’ (the creator of Dilbert ) section in Tim Ferriss’s Tools of Titans . Scott says:

If you want an average, successful life, it doesn’t take much planning. Just stay out of trouble, go to school, and apply for jobs you might like.

But if you want something extraordinary, you have two paths:

1) Become the best at one specific thing.

2) Become very good (top 25%) at two or more things.

The first strategy is difficult to the point of near impossibility. Few people will ever play in the NBA or make a platinum album. I don’t recommend anyone even try.

The second strategy is fairly easy. Everyone has at least a few areas in which they could be in the top 25% with some effort. In my case, I can draw better than most people, but I’m hardly an artist. And I’m not any funnier than the average standup comedian who never makes it big, but I’m funnier than most people. The magic is that few people can draw well and write jokes. It’s the combination of the two that makes what I do so rare. And when you add in my business background, suddenly I had a topic that few cartoonists could hope to understand without living it….

….Capitalism rewards things that are both rare and valuable. You make yourself rare by combining two or more “pretty goods” until no one else has your mix.

Scott is referring to the potential economic rewa rds that accrue when you don’t limit yourself to a single label, and that can potentially grow as you add more “ands” to who are and what you can do.

I, however, would argue there is something far more valuable than money to be gained from this approach: you don’t just find yourself, but you also get the opportunity to define and create yourself continuously and proactively.

The only label that should matter is to be YOU, whatever that means. A life’s ambition, and perhaps its purpose is to define that, and to make it as meaningful and impactful as possible.

Bye bye labels.

Depth Over Breadth

Tue, 24 Jan 2023 13:30:01 GMT

If you know me, you likely know that I take my health seriously. When it comes to my personal values and their ranking, Health comes in #2. Why? Is it that I want to live a long time? Perhaps that is a part of it, but only a small part.

The quantity of time I have is so uncertain, and much of it outside my control, that my personal goal is far more about increasing the quality of those years I end up getting in this life. For me, health is far more about “healthspan,” i.e., extending the years in which I am healthy, than “lifespan,” which could technically just be giving me more years, but those additional years as sickly and immobile.

The healthier I am now, the healthier I will we at each step, and the more I will be able to enjoy the days I am given. As with so much else, this was a sentiment the Stoics understood and lived by well before I came to my own realization of its importance in my own life. Two thousand years ago Seneca wrote: “Life is like a play: it’s not the length, but the excellence of the acting that matters.”

The better my health at any given moment, the better my “acting” will be. The more present and capable I will be when it comes to playing with my child (children?) and perhaps grandchildren or even great grandchildren. It isn’t how long I take up space on this planet, but rather doing what I can to ensure I can enjoy each moment I get as it comes to me.

This idea of depth over breadth has applications beyond just health. Clearly it applies in our diet, loading up on empty calories being far worse for us than smaller amounts of healthier food, and in how we work out, with high intensity interval training of short duration providing far more benefit than hours in gym chatting and texting between sporadic sets.

The same is just as true when it comes to other “nutrition” we might consume. What we read, watch, listen to. Whom we “follow,” and what we do with what we learn from them. You can read 200 books in a year, but if you take nothing of substance from them, you are worse off than the person who slogged through a single book, but who learned and acted upon what they learned from that one book and actively improved their life as a result. Our “diet,” food-based or otherwise, benefits just as much from a focus on depth over breadth as other areas of our lives.

And so it is with each day we receive. We can wake up, and go through the motions, mindlessly adding another tick next to the days on our life’s calendar. Or we can wake up recognizing and appreciating the gift that this day, and this day alone is. We can savor each moment we get in it. Sure, there will be times during the day that may seem mundane, but they will remain mundane only if we do not mindfully give them the depth that is possible in every second of our lives.

Our life’s breadth is only partially in our control. Our life’s depth lies within our own hands, or rather, in our heads. Now the question for each of us is how deep are we willing to go?

Too Much Birthday

Tue, 17 Jan 2023 13:30:03 GMT

I recently took my first family vacation in 3 years. It was an incredible time together, and I am already looking forward to our next one.

It was also the first family vacation my six-year-old daughter has taken where she has been a fully conscious person. Before COVID she and we traveled a lot. By the time she was three she had visited 14 countries. But all those travels were when she was too young to really understand what was going on, or how or why it was or would be different than what came before or would come after.

As this vacation ended, and we packed our bags to return home, my daughter asked over and over if we could just move to Namibia instead of leaving. If we couldn’t do that, could we at least stay another couple of weeks, a single week, a few days, a single day at the VERY least?!

I began to recognize a familiar melancholy. Initially it looked like what I felt as a child towards the end of a weekend, or summer vacation, or Christmas. However, this one was more pronounced than those more predictable and consistent episodes. What my daughter appeared to be experiencing was more akin to a feeling my parents described when my sister and I were young as “too much birthday.”

This “too much birthday” came about after we had intense and prolonged enjoyment of something (vacation, our birthday party, etc.), and then all of a sudden, we would get SO sad. At the time my parents explained it as just being overwhelmed with too much fun, and then being emotionally exhausted as a result. This makes a lot of sense. As with any intense and prolonged dopamine spike, there will be, and was, the inevitable trough and emotional down period that goes with that .

Though true, as an adult observing similar feelings and behaviors in my daughter, I think I noticed something different, or at least something additional. This is because the questions did not end with her wishing to prolong this particular vacation, i.e., it wasn’t just about prolonging the dopamine spike or delaying the coming low point. Talulla followed up by asking if our safari guide, Brian, who had been with us for two weeks could come back home with us (side note – for anyone looking to travel to Namibia, message me and I can connect you directly with Brian for an AMAZING adventure). When the answer was no, she asked if she would ever see him again. I answered honestly, saying I did not know for sure, but it was unlikely. She wanted to know why. Why would we not be back in Namibia (though we still might)? Why could I not promise we would see Brian again?

As I explained to her how vast the world is, how much more there is still to see, more than would ever be possible in a single lifetime, I saw the gears turning behind her eyes. Without ever having heard of it, she began to recognize the timeless truth behind Tim Urban’s “ The Tail End ” post (if you haven’t read it yet, you should). No matter how young or old we are now, how many or how few years we have ahead of us, there is a finite number of anything we will do or experience. This is true whether this is something as mundane as brushing our teeth for the last time, or for a truly once in a lifetime trip like this one was, and the clock is ticking.

Though Urban’s visualization makes this concept hit home more forcefully for many people, the underlying truth of what he says has been recognized for thousands of years. It was something the Stoics were well aware of and tried to remind themselves of with regular frequency. It led to one particular flavor of the Stoic practice of futurorum malorum præmeditatio, or negative visualization. Oftentimes this practice was used to project what could go wrong in the future to better inure yourself to what may come. Another way to practice this was, and is, to better value and appreciate the things you have, rather than to constantly craving more, by meditating on the time when you will no longer have or do those things any longer.

Author William Irvine calls this flavor of negative visualization the “last-time meditation.” As he writes in The Stoic Challenge:

[In a last-time meditation] you acknowledge that because you are mortal, there will be a last time for everything you do. There will be a last time you flip a light switch, a last time you eat dinner, and a last time you say goodbye to your parents, spouse, children, and friends. You have already done some things for the last time: there is a very good chance, for example, that you will never again dial a rotary telephone, type on a typewriter, or take a math exam. There will be a last time you lay your head on a pillow, as well as a last time you take a breath.

As a six-year-old it is easy to think that everything that is always has been and always will be. Truth be told, most adults live their lives as if they are under the same delusion. Understanding that she will never again experience in the same way something she enjoyed so much, and that she might never again see someone she enjoyed being with so much, was a difficult and powerful realization for her. It is also something I think we are both still trying to process.

All of this to say, I am not sure there is a way to get rid of the feeling of “too much birthday.” I am even less certain that I should or would get rid of it even if I could. The highs of life are elevated higher because of the lows we also experience. As much of a student of Stoicism as I try to be, I also believe there are times for the ups and downs. To experience them, to fully feel them, even when they bring tears to your eyes, isn’t that part and parcel with being human? Isn’t that an inextricable part of living and fully experiencing life?

As sad as my daughter is now, as we both are now that this vacation is over, I would take this feeling 100 times out of 100 if to avoid it meant I also had to avoid the highs and pure joy of those magical days with her and the rest of the family in Namibia. Just like birthday cake, it isn’t something I will indulge in on a daily basis, but every now and then, “too much birthday” certainly has its place.

The Process as the Result

Tue, 10 Jan 2023 13:30:01 GMT

Life is full of irony. We have that thing we have been reaching for, aspiring to, and striving to gain or achieve. We work, fight, stress over each step in the process to get there. It may take weeks, months, or even years to get there. Finally, we achieve our life’s ambition, an Olympic gold medal, taking a company public, getting a raise or promotion, graduating from school.

And then…

This is where the irony comes into play. This finish line we had in our mind, much like New Year’s Eve, never lives up to the expectations. Or perhaps it does, for a moment. And then that moment passes. Not only do we not now permanently feel that lifetime glow of achievement and success that we expected, but we often find we feel even worse than before. Not only that, but now we want even more. That finish line, that summit, it only raised us to the point where we can see other, higher, more exciting summits beyond where we stand presently.

There is a phrase for this human tendency: hedonic adaptation. “ Hedonic adaptation refers to the notion that after positive (or negative) events (i.e., something good or bad happening to someone), and a subsequent increase in positive (or negative) feelings, people return to a relatively stable, baseline level of affect.”

Our inability or unwillingness to recognize this fact, and to instead keep chugging along as if we can achieve a more permanent high of achievement has an even catchier name: the hedonic treadmill. We can walk or run as fast and for as long as we want, but in the end, we don’t get any farther than where we started.

As we better understand the drivers of human motivation, namely how dopamine works, we have gained greater insight as to why this is. As a starting point: “ Dopamine is a neurotransmitter produced by the nerve terminals in the synapse, used to send signals through neurons located in the body. It is also known as the Reward Chemical, as it is released whenever the brain feels excited or energized, when one is looking forward to a reward.”

This is where things get interesting. The increase in dopamine makes us feel more excited and energized. It is what is helping drive and motivate us in the pursuit of the “finish line.” But dopamine does not actually spike with the reaching of the finish line. It isn’t the reward that creates the increase in dopamine, it is instead “looking forward to the reward.” What this inevitably means is that we actually feel better just before the reward than when we receive the actual payoff.

This is what lies behind the evil genius of slot machines. The high comes not from the outcome, whether we win or lose, but instead from pulling the lever. It is the expectation of the outcome that gives us the dopamine hit. What this means is that if we want to keep getting that dopamine hit, win or lose, we have to keep pulling the lever over and over again.

There is another aspect of dopamine that is problematic in our pursuit of perpetual bliss. This is that the higher the dopamine spike, the lower the trough from that spike afterwards. Something small like a slot machine, or scrolling through social media on your phone, are moderate enough highs that we can periodically go down and then reach them again.

Something massive to us, that has been our ambition for years like a promotion or winning a big race, will not only mean that the anticipatory high is higher, but also that the post-achievement low is lower and longer. This is why depression in entrepreneurs after they sell their companies is so common, as well as with Olympic gold medalists after the games are over. Their high was so incredibly high. Their low was even lower, and longer.

Ok, so what does this mean if we aren’t about to take a company public, or planning to be the next Michael Phelps? The same biology applies just as much in our day-to-day lives as in those extremes. It is why someone who is exercising and uses a specific end state as the motivator, say competing in an upcoming marathon, has such a hard time sticking with it after they run the marathon in question.

It is also why someone who is “dieting” because they have a specific weight they want to hit, or an event like a wedding that they want to look good for has such a hard time keeping that weight off after the target is hit. The result was what they were seeking. The dopamine increased as they approached that result, and then once achieved the fall, and thus the decrease in motivation, was at least as steep and perhaps even more prolonged.

The answer then is to train ourselves to stop getting our dopamine from the result, but to instead get it from the process itself. Yes, maybe we still compete in the marathon, and yes, we still look super hot at that wedding, but what motivates us is the process each day.

Training ourselves to get the dopamine from the daily run, no longer a chore in service to a specific end target, but something we learn to look forward to and enjoy in its own right, gives us that slow and steady dopamine drip that keeps us motivated to keep going out to run each day. Even better, it does so without the resultant drop if the end state was the goal on its own.

The same is true with eating healthy. Rather than the target of a weight or event, we enjoy how much better we feel each day as we nourish ourselves with healthy food. Or in a professional environment, it is less about the raise or the title than taking pleasure and pride in the great work we do day to day.

These daily dopamine hits certainly don’t individually carry the same punch as the big end state goals we would otherwise have, but that is a feature, not a bug. This helps us avoid those deep and prolonged lows and helps us to stay motivated to keep doing the things we actually want to do in the first place.

The result we are seeking is the better process we have put into place. And who knows? With this better and more maintainable process, we might end up achieving and exceeding some of those goals we would have pursued anyway. It’s just that now, we won’t stop there.

Everything Happens for a Reason

Tue, 03 Jan 2023 13:30:00 GMT

“Everything happens for a reason.” This is a common enough saying. Do you find yourself thinking it, or even saying it out loud? Do you do it to comfort yourself, or someone else, when something you never wished for, and perhaps very much wished against, comes to pass? Do you believe it? What do you think that “reason” is?

Alternatively, what would the opposite be? Things happen for no reason at all? Things just happen, reason or not, they just happen?

I am sure there are very sophisticated answers within physics on the truth (or not) of these views. For example, if we could know the exact position, direction of travel, and speed of every particle in the universe, we could theoretically calculate exactly what will happen from now until eternity, and presumably calculate back to the very beginning as well. Though, even if this is true (albeit impossible today), would that bring us any closer to the reason things happen, or would it just be a causal explanation of how they came to be or will in the future come about?

That bigger question, that Reason will a capital “R,” is still out there, still to be determined. Is there a reason or is there not?

I would say that there definitively is, though not perhaps in the way you might expect. Everything does happen for a reason, and for us, it is the reason we choose to give it. Or, as Alfred Adler wrote: “Meanings are not determined by situations, but we determine ourselves by the meanings we give to situations.”

The reason was not there before the event in question. We create the reason after the event. Did that obstacle crop up to crush our dreams? Or did that obstacle arise to give us the opportunity to overcome it, making the eventual accomplishment that much sweeter and more meaningful? We get to decide. We get to narrate the story of our lives we tell inside our heads. Was the reason to hold us back, or was the reason to show us, and the world, what we are capable of?

We are a product of all that has happened to us in our lives. Still, we are less a product of the events themselves than of how we interpreted those events, and what they later meant to and for us. The reasons we believe everything happened that we ultimately came up with, those are the ingredients of the concoction we call our life.

Things will happen. People will say and do the darndest things. Who knows what their own reasons are? Who cares? What matters is not why they think they did what they did or said what they did, or why that thing technically happened. What matters is the reason we believe it happened, and what we believe it means for us. This is because once we believe it, we make it true in our own lives.

So yes, everything does happen for a reason. And the good news? You, and only you, get to decide on what that reason is.

Make it a good one.

12 Days of Books: My Top Reads of 2022

Tue, 27 Dec 2022 13:30:00 GMT

Having once again read more than 100 books this year, I wanted to share some of my favorites, the most impactful for me personally, and my most recommended reads of 2022.

As I know there are more read-worthy books already in print than I will ever be able to get to, and new ones come out weekly, I ask that you please share any of your top reads of the year as well so I can get a head start on my 2023 queue.

And with that, here we go (in the order I read them this year rather than any sort of stacked ranking).

Education of a Wandering Man: A Memoir by Louis L'Amour

This was a recommendation by my friend Maureen in the comments of last year’s top reads list . Thank you, Maureen! It was a great way to start the year. As if proof was ever needed, L’Amour’s personal story provides ample evidence that you do not need to be in school to be a student. Tracking the prolific author’s travels and his coming of age through reading and learning, it provided me inspiration on my own educational journey in 2022 (and beyond).

Musashi by Eiji Yoshikawa

Like many of my top reads, I came to this one through the recommendation of Tim Ferriss (no, not personally, but he references it a lot). I am a sucker for a great epic novel, as well as history, and tying the two together while profiling a culture I know little about (Japanese Samurai culture in the 16 ^th and 17 ^th centuries), all told in such an engaging and compelling way makes it an obvious for inclusion on this list.

The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green

Admittedly the title didn't appeal to me. I had zero interest in picking this book up, and then I heard Green on Adam Grant’s podcast. If Adam was such a fan, I had to give it a go. I am so happy I did. I do think the title does this book a disservice as it is so much more than what we have come to know from online reviews. Reading it, I laughed out loud at times, and shed tears at others. Green’s writing will get inside you. Five stars.

Principles for Dealing with the Changing World Order: Why Nations Succeed and Fail by Ray Dalio

I won’t pretend I understand everything Dalio covers, or that I yet know exactly what to do differently having now read it, but damn, what a slap in the face this book was for me. At the same time, I know there is not another book I read this year that I have constantly tried to discuss with others as I just can't shake the ideas and evidence presented. In this time of uncertainty (isn’t that always the case?), this should be required reading for everyone.

A Dance to the Music of Time by Anthony Powell

Ok. This is cheating a bit as it is twelve books not one, but wow, they are ALL worth it. A big fan of Proust’s À la recherche du temps perdu (having read it twice), Powell’s works for me at least are an English version of what some consider the greatest literary work of all time. This is not just because Powell references Proust’s masterpiece, or that the narrator experiences his own “madeleine moment.” Powell’s books also contain more action and less introspection than Proust’s. There is more history, making it less a universal coming of age tale. Maybe this is why it does not get same level of praise as the French work. Regardless of the reason, this was the big surprise of the year for me as I had never even heard of it before. Given its relative accessibility, especially compared to Proust, and that it covers a time of great interest (1920s all the way to the 1970s), I am even more surprised that the series is not more popular now.

Freeing Energy by Bill Nussey

Written by a friend, what others may consider a dry subject matter (the greening of the economy) I absolutely devoured over the 4 ^th of July weekend. There is so much doom and gloom when it comes to climate change, that Bill’s book is a much-needed breath of fresh air in that it doesn't just give you hope, but also gives you the roadmap to act to realize that hope.

What You Do Is Who You Are: How to Create Your Business Culture by Ben Horowitz

For many people company “culture” = perks. This has never been true for me, and Horowitz proves the same, but takes it even a step further. He says it is not what you say you believe, or even what you do believe, but rather HOW you act, and how and what others believe regarding those actions. He argues there is not a singularly “right” culture, but a right approach to developing one. This is to be deliberate because you will have a culture whether you intentionally designed it or not, so you might as well act with intent. If you didn't? Chances are it's not what you want, and it is WAY harder to change after the fact than to build it and live it from the start.

The Idiot and Either/Or by Elif Batuman

Yes, another cheat in including two books as a single item, but they really should be read together as the second is the sequel to the first. I am not sure how I missed The Idiot when it first came out, but I am grateful that I found both when I did. Perhaps this is so high on my personal list because of the nostalgia it evokes in me telling the story of a Harvard student at roughly the same time I was on campus. Or perhaps this is so high on my list because it is a very 21 ^st century coming of age tale, not from the perspective of a white man, but rather as a portrait of the artist as a young woman.

From Strength to Strength by Arthur C. Brooks

Some books are great or not depending on when in your life you read them. That may very well be the case for me with the latest from Brooks, but wow, the timing could not be better. I cannot tell you how many times I have cited, recommended, or even purchased this book on impulse to hand to the person next to me. For anyone at an inflection point in their life, or anyone who will face an inflection point in the future (i.e., everyone), this is an insightful and helpful guide to creating and living a life of purpose.

The Years of Lyndon Johnson by Robert Caro

Apparently, I can’t stop cheating this year as this is four books, so far, in what must be the most thoroughly researched and expertly written profile of anyone ever. I came to know and respect Caro and his writing through his book The Power Broker about Robert Moses. Impressed by his thoroughness and insight in that 1,344-page tome, it took me several years to build up the courage to tackle his LBJ series, but the time was well spent. I look forward to the next installment in the series.

The Book of Ichigo Ichie: The Art of Making the Most of Every Moment, the Japanese Way by Héctor García and Francesc Miralles

I learned of this Japanese concept as the sun set on 2021 , and I have actively reminded myself of it on multiple occasions throughout the year . Finding a book dedicated to the idea, and how to practice and live it was a delightful surprise for me.

Soccer in Sun and Shadow by Eduardo Galeano

I discovered this book just as the World Cup was kicking off in Qatar, and what timing. I can think of no better accompaniment to the beautiful game. Even if you are not a fan of football/soccer, Galeano’s passion for the sport, as well as his expert writing make this well worth reading.

BONUS #1

The Girl Who Would Be Free & The Boy Who Would Be King by Ryan Holiday

As an avid student of Stoicism ( I wrote a book on it after all! ) I have been on the lookout for good ways to introduce the concepts to my daughter. Enter, of course, the peerless and prolific Ryan Holiday. When, during a sleep over, I walked in to find my six-year-old daughter reading The Girl Who Would Be King to her friend, it only further confirmed how wonderful these two books are. I love that we have signed copies that Talulla will be able to keep with her for a lifetime.

BONUS #2

Way of the Warrior Kid Series by Jocko Willink

Talulla absolutely loves these, and I love the lessons they embed. The fact that she now comes to the gym with me an absolutely crushes it is a nice bonus. But the books are about for more than physical prowess. The discipline, thoughtfulness, and empathy they encourage are foundational for building a good life. And T loves them! What's not to like?

A Quality Life

Tue, 20 Dec 2022 13:30:00 GMT

Increasing our “quality of life” sounds like an admirable objective. Who could argue against wanting greater quality in our lives? However, like so much else, many of us, myself included, have taken a theoretically good concept, and distorted it in unhelpful and unhealthy ways.

This is particularly ironic when it comes to quality of life. Merriam-Webster defines quality of life as “overall enjoyment of life: general well-being ” and “specifically : the degree to which a person or group is healthy, comfortable, and able to enjoy the activities of daily living.” This at least sounds right and good!

Perhaps it is just me, though, but for much of my life I added and disproportionately weighted an economic component to this.

Maybe I was taking signals from my surroundings on this. The Economist Intelligence Unit (the research and analysis unit of the Economist Group) publishes a “Where-to-be-born index” that was itself previously called the “Quality-of-life index.” In describing the methodology for the index, Wikipedia lists the very first independent variable included as “Material well-being as measured by GDP per capita (in $, at 2006 constant PPPS).” NOTE: PPPS relates to “purchasing power parity” in that $1 in Bolivia buys far more than $1 in Switzerland.

Notice that Merriam-Webster mentions nothing at all about material well-being. There is an assumption being made that one thing, in this case per capita GDP, is more likely to lead to another thing, i.e., a healthy, comfortable life where you can enjoy the activities of daily living.

Maybe this is true in many cases, but that does not mean that one thing equals the other. Someone who toils through inhumane hours to build financial wealth and dies at his desk demonstrates that optimizing on this one variable that was never more than a proxy for the others can come at the direct cost of those you were trying to optimize for in the first place. This person through his work increased that per capita GDP, but he also was not healthy because he did not eat or sleep well, he did not get enough exercise, or enough social and family time necessary for a healthy mental life. He almost definitionally did not get to enjoy the daily activities of living.

Quality of life having a material component can informative or helpful in some cases, and in others (Many? Most?) it can also hurt.

Maybe this is why I am so careful in answering the question people inevitably ask when they find out I moved to Bermuda. “Do you love it?”

The short answer, of course, is yes! The more nuanced answer I feel necessary to share with them comes down to reassessing “quality of life.”

“When it comes to our material quality of life,” I always point out, “it is much lower here than back in Atlanta.” I explain how I drive a 2006 car with nearly 200,000 kms on it. How we rent a place smaller than what we had in Atlanta, and without all the same modern amenities. About how now that we are on an island, I can’t just push a button and have whatever I think I want at any given moment delivered to me in a matter of hours.

By some measures, by my own previous measures, all of this would be a step back in my “quality of life.” By the previously-known-as the Quality-of-life index this would also be a step back given that Bermuda is so expensive that when it comes to purchasing power parity, each dollar here buys me roughly half of what I would get for the same dollar in Atlanta.

I then go on to say that when it comes to the non-material measures of my quality of life, however, the move has been a dramatic step up. On this tiny island I get time in the ocean every day. Literally. I get to explore with my daughter in ways I couldn’t, or at least didn’t, when we lived in a more urban environment. Not being able to click a button and buy new things, I have reduced my consumption and become more thoughtful about what I need, not just what I want. I have been able to reassess my priorities, and to reprioritize how and where I spend my life as a result.

The step back in “material well-being” has been a giant leap forward for the quality of my life.

I realize not everyone can hop on a plane or boat and move to an island, and I don’t think it necessary or advisable for everyone to do so. Everyone can and should, however, think about how they measure their own quality of life.

Are you pursuing real quality, or a proxy for quality? Is that proxy still serving you, or has it over time become so distorted in your pursuit that it is now coming at the cost of the quality you are seeking?

That is a quality question that is always worth asking and answering.

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

Tue, 13 Dec 2022 13:30:00 GMT

Several years ago, I went through a pilot program that took some of the top training techniques used with Olympic athletes, Navy SEALs, astronauts, and others, and attempted to apply them in the business world. I got to meet some amazing people in the program, particularly the instructors, and much of what I learned I still carry with me and try to apply today.

There was one section in particular that has really stuck with me. The instructor put up a slide that showed a picture of a gazelle on one side and of a lion on the other. The instructor explained that as the lion chased the gazelle and the gazelle ran away, what was happening physiologically inside each animal, the elevated heart rate, shorter and faster breathing, tunnel vision, etc. was actually the same in both animals. Their bodies were having the exact same things happening, but the story of what was happening was dramatically different. Being hunted is clearly not the same as being the hunter.

The point the instructor was making is that as humans, we have the ability to reframe the stories we tell ourselves. Just before we go on stage and have a big presentation, we can feel our heart racing, experience those butterflies in our stomachs, and we can tell ourselves that we are nervous. Another option is to feel the exact same thing and then to tell ourselves instead that we are excited. One is a story where our body may be getting in our way. The other is a story where our body is preparing us to knock it out of the park.

This option is in our hands in every moment. As Hamlet said: “[T]here is nothing good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” A specific event may have happened or be happening right now. That event in and of itself has no label until we give it one. It isn’t a “good” thing that happened, or a “bad” thing. It is simply something that happened. Only when we put our label on it do we determine the story we will tell ourselves about the event.

Sure, there are things that happen to us that we would never wish for ahead of time. Perhaps things that we would actively wish would never happen at all. Surely these are bad, right? The Roman Emperor and Stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius would say no. “Unhappy am I because this has happened to me,” Marcus begins in his personal journal, Meditations. “Not so,” he goes on, “but happy am I, though this has happened to me, because I continue free from pain, neither crushed by the present nor fearing the future.” We always have the option to reframe the story we tell ourselves.

The same is as true in our work as it is in our personal lives. In another portion of the same program, one of the instructors was teaching us about “flow state.” Flow state is defined by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi as: “a state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter; the experience is so enjoyable that people will continue to do it even at great cost, for the sheer sake of doing it.” One of the other instructors in the program, Dr. Andrew Huberman, asked if or how this flow state might be related to Dr. Richard Feynman’s playful approach to his own work.

For context, later in his career Nobel Laureate Richard Feynman wrote about a time when he was burned out. He had no desire to continue with his research and would rather spend his time reading the Arabian Nights in the university library. Then he had an idea. “[J]ust like I read the Arabian Nights for pleasure,” he later shared, “I’m going to play with physics, whenever I want to, without worrying about any importance whatsoever.”

The result? “[B]efore I knew it (it was a very short time) I was “playing”—working, really with the same old problem that I loved so much, that I had stopped working on when I went to Los Alamos: my thesis‑type problems; all those old‑fashioned, wonderful things….It was effortless. It was easy to play with these things.”

Speaking to Dr. Huberman afterwards, we discussed the earlier lesson about the gazelle and the lion. The work Feynman was doing was the same, but it was the story he told himself about the work that had changed. It took what in one mindset was drudgery and turned it into play. He had been blocking himself from achieving the flow state that was always there for the taking.

We might not all have the opportunity to win a Nobel prize, but we do have the opportunity to craft the stories we tell ourselves, regardless of the circumstances, or the work that we do. A famous example of this in less elevated work is the story of Christopher Wren speaking with three bricklayers as they worked on rebuilding St Paul’s Cathedral. For those not familiar, it goes like this:

One day in 1671, Christopher Wren observed three bricklayers on a scaffold, one crouched, one half-standing and one standing tall, working very hard and fast. To the first bricklayer, Christopher Wren asked the question, “What are you doing?” to which the bricklayer replied, “I’m a bricklayer. I’m working hard laying bricks to feed my family.” The second bricklayer, responded, “I’m a builder. I’m building a wall.” But the third brick layer, the most productive of the three and the future leader of the group, when asked the question, “What are you doing?” replied with a gleam in his eye, “I’m a cathedral builder. I’m building a great cathedral to The Almighty.”

From nuclear physicists to bricklayers, all of us can craft the stories we choose to tell ourselves about what we are doing, and what is happening around us. In the story that is your life, what lens are you going to choose to put on it?

Stronger Than We Think

Tue, 06 Dec 2022 13:30:00 GMT

As I write this, I am on a 5-day water ( and salt ) fast. It is something I now do twice a year, down from four times a few years ago. Why would anyone willingly and repeatedly do this?!

The most obvious answer some might jump to is weight loss. However, my experience has shown fasting is not a very good way to do this. Putting aside the fact that I have no desire to drop any weight, the first time I did such a fast I lost slightly less weight than I did when traveling around Italy for a week gorging on pasta, pizza, and gelato. Granted I have no idea how that is possible, but one way of losing weight was a lot more fun, I will tell you that much!

However, in both cases, a week or two later I was back to my starting weight. The weight shed does not stay off. If weight loss is your goal, you are far better off eating and exercising in a long-term sustainable way, otherwise your weight will just yoyo back and forth.

But if isn’t about weight control, why fast? There are myriad health benefits attributed to fasting, from reducing inflammation, to life extension, to boosting brain function, and more . These were the benefits that initially got me to try fasting. Particularly when it comes to inflammation and little niggling injuries, I do feel a difference.

Fasting has also provided an ancillary benefit I am not sure I expected going in: it helps show me what I am capable of. Before I began fasting, if my stomach grumbled, I was a slave to it. I couldn’t work out; I wasn’t properly fueled! I couldn’t do my best mental work; I was undernourished! Believing I always needed food accessible to me, I just accepted that I had no control over whether I became “hangry.”

Now? Now I know this was all in my head. I have gone to the gym having not eaten for five days straight and lifted heavier than before I began the fast. I have cranked through work of higher quality and at a greater throughput having consumed nothing but water and salts for days on end. My mind and my body were always capable of these things. My mind was also what was holding me back.

This same lesson applies far beyond fasting. The idea of deliberately testing our limits, of pushing ourselves not only to show us what we are capable of, but also to give us greater immunity to the vagaries of life is far from new. Two millennia ago, Seneca wrote to Lucilius :

Set aside a certain number of days, during which you shall be content with the scantiest and cheapest fare, with coarse and rough dress, saying to yourself the while: “Is this the condition that I feared?” It is precisely in times of immunity from care that the soul should toughen itself beforehand for occasions of greater stress, and it is while Fortune is kind that it should fortify itself against her violence…If you would not have a man flinch when the crisis comes, train him before it comes.

[…]

Let the pallet be a real one, and the coarse cloak; let the bread be hard and grimy. Endure all this for three or four days at a time, sometimes for more, so that it may be a test of yourself instead of a mere hobby. Then, I assure you, my dear Lucilius, you will leap for joy when filled with a pennyworth of food, and you will understand that a man’s peace of mind does not depend upon Fortune; for, even when angry she grants enough for our needs.

How often have you felt compelled to do something you know you don’t want to do because of your fear of what might happen if you don’t? The most obvious example comes down to material wants and needs. As we buy a bigger house, and fill it with more things, we increase our expectation of what we “need” to be happy.

Rubbish says Seneca. Test yourself. Deprive yourself of these things and you will find you are quite capable of living, and even living happily without them. Sure, it is easier if you never develop a taste for these things in the first place. As with quitting smoking, there may be some withdrawals, but you can do it. You are stronger and far more capable than you realize.

I am not saying anyone else should go and stop eating for five days. I am suggesting you have more room to test yourself than you are likely taking advantage of today. Is it cold out today? Maybe go without the coat to prove to yourself you can get by just fine, though perhaps with a bit of a chill, without that extra layer. Can’t get through the morning without your daily cup of coffee? Take a month off to show yourself you are not a slave to any substance. You can still decide you want to go back after the month is out, but proving you can get by just fine without it puts you in far more control when unforeseen circumstances crop up that may make it impossible to get your normal java fix.

None of this needs to be permanent. The important thing is that you show yourself that you can get by without these things you believed you needed rather than just wanted. At that point you can decide if you want to keep them habitually in your life or not. You are not dependent on them; you have proven that to yourself. You are using them; they are not using you.

Test yourself. Is this the condition you feared? Fear no more. You can do hard things.

Subtracting From Your Wants

Tue, 29 Nov 2022 13:30:00 GMT

In the first week of my first year of law school, the school hosted a career panel. On it were people representing academia, corporate law, public service, and more. The idea was to give us an idea of where our studies could take us.

Perhaps like many others, I arrived at law school not really knowing what being a lawyer entailed. No one in my family was a lawyer, and so my conception of the profession was fed largely by books, TV, and movies. Needless to say, those sources didn’t provide the most accurate depiction of what the job looks like day-to-day.

As helpful as the panel was for me personally in better understanding the various potential career paths open to me after graduation, what stuck with me the most, and what still sticks with me, was a comment made by one of the people who had gone into public service.

“Many of you here tonight,” he began, “came to law school with lofty ideals and ambitions of the good work and good deeds you will do.”

There were more than a few nods.

“Many of you are also now coming to terms with the debt burden you will carry after graduation,” he continued.

Even more nods now.

“Most of you might already be telling yourself that you will go to the “dark side” and do high paying corporate work for a few years so you can pay off that debt.”

He looked around and even I could see more than a few sheepish looks of being found out.

“That can actually work,” he went on. “It’s possible to go from high paying corporate to the much less remunerative public sector.”

There was more hope in the audience.

“But,” and this is where the other shoe dropped, “if you are really going to do it, if you are really going to be able to walk away from the higher pay, then from the very first day you will need to live like you are on that lower salary you will end up with.”

“The thing is,” he shared, “when you put on that expensive suit, it feels better. When you taste that expensive bottle of wine, it tastes better. When you sit in Business Class on a long-haul flight or stay in a five-star resort, it is nicer . There are reasons people pay more for these things.

“If you grow accustomed to them, there is almost no chance you will take that step back financially when the time comes. It will just feel too painful.”

Gloom had now overtaken the audience once more.

“But if you never get used to them, if you never build a life that includes them, you won’t miss anything when you go down to that lower salary. If you start from the beginning where you know you will be, know you want to be at the end, you never have to go backwards. I am not saying it can’t be done, I am just saying in my decades of experience, I have found the latter path infinitely more successful in leading people to doing the work they truly want to do with their lives.”

All of this I listened to well before I became acquainted with Stoic philosophy. However, the timeless wisdom of the panelist really hit home for me when I read the following from Epictetus: “If you wish to be rich, do not add to your store of money but subtract from your desires.” Then I learned the other side of the equation reading Seneca: “It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, that is poor.”

As with so much else, the Stoics said it thousands of years earlier, and far more succinctly. The person who goes into public service is not and never was “poor.” It is only the person is in public service who constantly craves “more” who feels poor. The panelist knew and had seen over and over that these cravings are far easier to satiate if we never develop a taste for them, or perhaps even an awareness of them in the first place.

We can be rich, we can be fulfilled not when we reach or accumulate some specific thing or quantity of things, but rather at the time when we decide that what we have is already enough.

This is a lesson I must continually remind myself of. We live in a materialist culture. Our measure of success is GDP growth: how much more can we produce and consume? We are inundated with advertisements scientifically designed to trigger cravings for things we would not otherwise even know about or care about. Knowing the innate truth behind the Stoics’ words is one thing. Living that same truth, for me at least, is more difficult.

This is why as I sit and meditate in the morning, especially when Talulla wakes up early and comes and sits in my lap as I do so, I remind myself that no matter what amount of money is in my bank account, or whatever else I get or achieve, this is exactly what I would choose to do. I don’t need or want any more. In that moment, I have everything.

The same is true when I am swimming. For that activity all I need is a basic pair of goggles and an old swimsuit. As I swim, I remind myself that this is what I would choose to do, would want to do, regardless of any additions to my store of money. There is nothing more I crave.

None of this is “natural” for me. None of it is easy. I believe the same was true even for Epictetus and Seneca. There is a reason they had to call this out. Our default is to crave more. In our attention economy, where well-funded companies are working hard to make sure we constantly crave more, what we face is even more daunting than what they had to deal with. However, even if the specifics of the challenges may have changed, the remedy remains the same. Better understanding our human nature gives us the ability to override it when our natural tendencies are no longer serving us.

It likely won’t ever be easy, but it is certainly the surest path to “riches” for all of us.

Giving Thanks

Tue, 22 Nov 2022 13:30:04 GMT

With Thanksgiving coming later this week, it seemed appropriate to take gratitude as the theme for this post. As readers of Get Out of My Head will know, a mindset of gratitude is something that is in our control, and it is also something that has psychological and physical benefits for us when we employ it.

And yet, for all the positivity that comes to us when we express gratitude to others, more recent studies have shown that to derive the greatest impact from a gratitude practice it is more important to receive than to give . There are all sorts of levels of irony that could be unpacked in this, but I will leave that for another time. For now, I will just point out that the results of the study demonstrated that the benefits from the expression of gratitude were far more potent for the receiver than the giver of said gratitude.

Recognizing we can’t always expect others to shower us with gratitude each day, what exactly are we supposed to take from the above? For me there are a couple of things.

The first takeaway is that very similar positive benefits from the expression of gratitude were found to accrue to people who were able to watch videos of others expressing gratitude . It is important to note this gratitude was not expressed to the study participant who was watching it. Instead, the participants were watching videos of strangers expressing gratitude to and about other strangers. Still, in watching and listening to these stories of thankfulness, the “gratitude circuitry” in the subjects’ brains turned on, giving them these potent benefits of gratitude. Thus, to cultivate a gratitude practice that taps into these benefits, seemingly all you would need to do is watch YouTube videos of people expressing gratitude. If you are going to spend time online anyway, why not try it?

A second takeaway is that we don’t necessarily have to depend on other people’s stories to activate our gratitude brain circuitry. Maybe it is infrequent, maybe we gloss over it, maybe we aren’t great at appreciating it in the moment, but throughout our lives each of us has received gratitude at times. Knowing the results of the above studies, I have personally adapted my own gratitude practice to include writing out by hand very detailed stories of times when I received gratitude. I paint the picture of my surroundings, of the context of that day and time. I write about how I was feeling and what I was thinking. I give specifics on who the person expressing gratitude to me was, why they were expressing the gratitude, and how it made me feel in the moment. Then I reflect on my larger takeaways from that experience. I don’t write these stories every day, but if I have a new one, I make sure to capture it. On days where I am not writing a new story, I often go back and reread one I previously wrote. It helps me relive that moment of receiving gratitude all over again, and for that I am grateful.

My third, and perhaps the most important takeaway is that while the greatest benefits of a gratitude practice come from receiving the gratitude yourself, or watching someone else receive it, the science still demonstrates that there are benefits to expressing gratitude as well. For me, given that I know the benefits I receive as well as the greater benefits the recipient will receive, this means that regardless of the first two takeaways above I have done nothing to slow my expression of gratitude to others. I make sure I write handwritten thank you cards. I make sure to tell people how and why I appreciate them and what they did. I make sure I cultivate a grateful mind and express that gratitude proactively.

A recent example came when our team had an internal poll asking about the best mentor each of us ever had. I wrote up my answer to share with the team, and then made sure to reach out and share that with the mentor I wrote about. This was someone with whom I had not been in contact for ten years, but who had an incredibly positive impact on my professional development, and I wanted to make sure he heard that gratitude from me.

All of this to say, we now know how beneficial it is to receive gratitude. While we can’t control what expressions of gratitude we receive, we can control the gratitude we express. Knowing how much it positively impacts the receiver let’s all work to get more gratitude out into the world. Some of it might come back our way, and for that we should all be grateful.

Great Not Good

Tue, 15 Nov 2022 13:30:00 GMT

As you may or may not know, most mornings I journal. There was a time when it was me reflecting on the day prior or looking forward to the day ahead without any outside prompts. Then I discovered Ryan Holiday’s The Daily Stoic and used that as my launching pad for journaling topics for a year. From there I learned of other books that are well suited for morning journaling, and as I write this, I am at present using Leo Tolstoy’s (yes, the guy who wrote War and Peace and Anna Karenina ) A Calendar of Wisdom .

Tolstoy’s is unique in journaling books from what I have seen because rather than taking a single quote and himself expounding upon that, he will take a theme or idea, and pull in quotes from a wide variety of sources. A single day might have him citing Buddhist wisdom, the Talmud, Marcus Aurelius, Said-Ben-Hamed, and more. It is a good indication and a reminder that no single philosophy, religion, or ideology has a monopoly on some of the most important and universal human truths.

A recent morning’s prompt really stuck out to me. After citing Michele de Montaigne, an Arabic proverb, and the Bible, Tolstoy provides the following with no citation:

“Real wisdom comes, not from knowing what is good and what should be done, but from knowing which is the better thing and which is the worse, and therefore, what should be done and what should be done later.”

Reading this, I couldn’t help but think back to a similar quote from Steve Jobs:

“People think focus means saying yes to the thing you’ve got to focus on. But that’s not what it means at all. It means saying no to the hundred other good ideas that there are. You have to pick carefully. I’m actually as proud of the things we haven’t done as the things I have done. Innovation is saying no to 1,000 things.”

We are awash in a world of plenty, a world of excess really. This is as true for ideas and the things we can do as it is for the material items we can purchase and consume. Whether it is an under resourced startup trying to determine which customer segment to focus on (there are so many it could work for!), a parent trying to figure out which sports and activities her children can realistically handle, or just the rest of us trying to determine what commitments to take on at work, home, and with friends and family, few of us have a dearth of “good things” that we could, or maybe even should do.

In such a world of excess, however, it is unrealistic and at times inhumane to say yes to all or even most of them. To do the great thing means we have to say no to tens, or hundreds, or in Apple’s case, a 1,000 good things. It is only when we can identify that “better thing,” and fully get behind it that we can make the better thing great. Otherwise, we are left holding a basketful of things that were potentially good, but that never reached their potential because none received the care and attention required to make it what it could be.

It's fun to say “yes” to a new idea or activity. It can be painful to say “no” to the same. If we are to build a great , not a good life, the wisdom of the ages seems to say we are going to have to say no far more than we say yes. It comes with a cost, no doubt, but the payoff is real as well.

Ikigai

Tue, 08 Nov 2022 13:30:00 GMT

Ikigai and the Difference Between Knowing and Doing

A recent article in The Economist discusses the Japanese concept of ikigai . Loosely translated as “reason for being,” the concept has gained prominence in a Western society hungry for purpose, the author contends. Listing out the books, consultancies, TED talks and more around the concept, the article’s greater point is that ikigai , or at least an awareness of it in the same sense as Westerners now seem to be gaining an awareness of it, is remarkable in Japan more for its absence than its conscious practice.

To prove the point, the author cites a Tweet by a Japanese observer that went viral: “Apparently, there’s an ancient Japanese philosophy called ‘ ikigai ’…huh? What’s that?” The article’s author goes on: “ Ikigai thus joins a long list of Japanese words that have been repurposed to lend an aura of ancient wisdom—and exoticism—to banal ideas,” at the same time noting that the Danish word hygge , “has suffered a similar fate.”

The author’s larger argument seems to echo a point made by Stephen Covey long ago: “We see the world, not as it is, but as we are.” Or rather more accurately, as we want to be . These foreign and ancient concepts are not deep or new, but seeking depth and newness in our own lives, we project our desires upon them.

My take after reading the article is actually very different. It is not that foreigners are bastardizing terms they "discover" in other languages, but rather they are rediscovering the rich histories and meanings of those terms after centuries of being watered down in everyday life. The concepts and ideas these words evoke carry within them innate human needs and truths. Glossing over this in the day-to-day bustle of modern life, it is easy to lose sight of this in one’s own language and culture. Sometimes new eyes are required to see old truths.

It reminds me of a point Tim Ferriss often makes. “If learning was enough,” he says, “we would all have six-pack abs.” His point is this: we all know what it takes to get that ripped body: workout daily, don’t eat sugar and junk, don’t overconsume calories, etc. And yet, despite this knowledge, >73% of Americans are overweight. It is not a lack of knowledge that prevents people from the body many claim they desire. It is a lack of acting on that knowledge.

The same is true with a concept like ikigai . We all intrinsically know that we will find greater purpose if we live our lives at that intersection of what we love, what we are good at, what the world needs, and what we can get paid for. But knowing this is not the same as acting upon it. Through inertia we may stay in a job that we do not love, or that the world does not actually need because the pay is good. If we pretend we do not know this to be true, it is because we also pretend we are not asking and answering that question daily in our subconscious.

The same is true with how we spend time with our family. We can pick up the phone during dinner saying it is “just this one important email/call/text message,” pretending we are not all too aware of the message this sends our children and other family members of where they sit in our prioritized list, or how frequently the “just this one time” actually occurs. We can even pretend we are not painfully aware of how much we will regret that lack of self restraint in the years to come when those faces are no longer at our table for us to be able to neglect, and when they have learned the lesson from us on how to prioritize us, or not, in their own lives.

The same is true with “multi-tasking,” and its fictional nature as study of study confirms. But knowing we are just inefficiently task switching and making ourselves less effective at whatever it is we think we are doing does nothing to stop us from checking our phone while we are supposed to be in a conversation, or responding to an email when we are supposed to be in an online meeting.

The same is true with each article or book we read, or book or podcast that we listen to before moving on to the next one without synthesizing and acting upon any of the insights gleaned from its consumption. It is not a lack of knowing in our lives that is holding us back from living the lives we want, and the lives that we are fully capable of achieving. What is absent is our conviction to pick what is worth doing, even at the cost of not doing other things, and sticking with it.

This is exactly why Get Out of My Head concludes each chapter with tactical exercises. This is why I pulled those exercises out and made them available in a free download . And this is why I personally go back and work through those same exercises consistently. I know what is in the book. I wrote it! And I also know that ALL of the benefit comes from the doing, and that I have to practice that doing as much as anyone.

So no, I don’t think Westerners enamored with the concept of ikigai (or ichi-go ichi-e , hygge , or any other of a long list of "foreign" concepts) are getting it wrong (at least yet). Rather, in not just knowing the concept, but actually living it, they are some of the few who are getting it right.

As you read this, I wish you success in not just knowing what you want to get right in your own life, but also and more importantly, actually doing the consistent work required to get there.

Self-Service

Tue, 01 Nov 2022 12:30:08 GMT

Over dinner recently I got into a discussion with my friend, Will. He mentioned to me the difference between “service” and “pleasing.”

“A lot of times we think we are serving someone,” he explained, “when in reality we are just pleasing them.” This pleasing, he explained to me, can run completely counter to serving them. He illustrated this point with an example of a friend who might be an addict. Yes, if we give that person money so he can feed his addiction, that in the near term would make that person “happy.” We could tell ourselves we are serving that person since now they are happier thanks to our helping hand. The reality, however, would be less rosy. We would be pleasing that person in the short-term but doing them no real service in the longer run, and likely even harming them.

The distinction Will drew resonated with me. In a world in which we hail the servant leader, and commend service, it made me realize that we, and I, needed to dig deeper in assessing the motivations behind that service. Was my action driven by a meaningful impact on something or someone else, or was I rather more motivated by the feeling I would get from it? This could come from the commendation of others for my “selfless” act, or it could come from a more intrinsic feeling of accomplishment I might get for what I did. In either case, my driving motivation was not really serving others, but it was rather serving myself. In my mind I began to label this sort of “serving” as “self-service.”

This is not to say good deeds cannot come from less than pure motivations. I am in the process of working my way through Robert Caro’s masterpiece of history, The Years of Lyndon Johnson Series. In it the contradictions of the former President are clearly set out, and they raise questions about his motivations for shepherding through the most impactful civil rights legislation in the US after the 13 ^th , 14 ^th , and 15 ^th Amendments. Yes, good came of his work. And yes, his motivations may have been more self-serving than might have been realized at the time. Should we care?

As individuals, whether or not we care about Johnson’s motivations, I would argue we should care about our own. Our life is not just the sum of the things we do. It is also a product of who we are, as well as why and how we do them while we are here. Given this opportunity, this single opportunity to live the life we are given, shouldn’t we all strive to do things well, and do them for the right reasons?

During the same event where I was speaking with Will, another theme kept coming up. That of “planting trees under whose the shade you will never sit.” To do things for which you will never get credit, to do things that will benefit people we will never know, and who will never know we existed, but to do them anyway because they are the right thing, that to me is the ultimate measure of serving.

With so many issues now before us, issues that may or may not impact us, but that will certainly impact generations to come, if the time was ever right for service, it must be now.

Don't Follow Your Passion

Tue, 25 Oct 2022 12:30:00 GMT

On his recent “Re:Thinking Podcast” Adam Grant asked Mark Cuban about the worst piece of career advice he has gotten. The answer will no doubt surprise many. “Follow your passions,” Cuban responded with no hesitation.

Wait. What?! Wasn’t that the near universal message of every graduation speech for a decade or more? Weren’t we always told to follow our passion as then, and only then, would we achieve fulfillment in our careers?

Adam Grant seems surprised. “You don’t agree with that?”

No, Cuban responds, “follow your effort.”

Perhaps surprisingly, Cuban’s advice immediately resonated with me. My passion was and is civil rights and human rights. Growing up in the south, when I went to college in the north it was a wakeup call on so much that I had been taught in school, and so much that I thought I “knew.” That set me on a path in undergrad that had me deeply study the civil rights movement in the US, and to writing a Senior Honors thesis on the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC).

My studies in turn led me to law school where I had the dream of becoming a civil rights attorney. And what timing. My first year of law school happened to coincide with the 50 ^th anniversary of the Brown v. Board decision. My 1L Criminal Law professor happened to be the great Charles Ogletree, whose book, All Deliberate Speed, came out that same year. Working for Professor Ogletree, he knew of my passion, and supported it. He invited me to private dinners he hosted with Brown v. Board participants who were still living. I got to meet federal judges and discuss the issues I was so passionate about with them.

And then things only got better. The summer after my 1L year I was able to clerk for a law firm with an education litigation practice. I got to spend my summer largely focused on education funding suits. How could I ask for more?

And yet, more came my way. That same summer the American Bar Association conference happened to be in Atlanta, where I was clerking. That same conference happened to have a retrial of Brown 50-years on as part of it. The firm I clerked for happened to be arguing in that case. I got to spend another part of my summer working on that!

And then we got to the trial. Professor Ogletree was there of course, and he pointed out that Supreme Court Justice Breyer would also be there as one of the judges (I had met Justice Breyer earlier that year when, as a friend of Professor Ogletree’s, Justice Breyer came, and guest taught one of my classes). And the personal connections continued when I learned that my undergraduate thesis advisor’s wife would be one of our expert witnesses in the trial.

I had followed my passion and had gotten everything I wanted. My dream came true. Oh, and I was miserable. It turned out that the issues I was so passionate about were not the same as the process of the work attorneys did on those issues.

What had inspired me was not just the purpose, but also through undergraduate and law school, the process of collaboratively working through complex ideas and arguments to effect change. When I got to the law firm, I found my 12+ hour days were sent solitarily in an office reading through cases and files and writing up my findings. The interactions that had so energized my work as a student seemed to be sorely missing when I went into practice. Following my passion had led me exactly where I thought I wanted to be. Not understanding the process made me, once there, realize that was not the destination I truly wanted.

Perhaps this is what Cuban means by “follow your effort.” When asked for career advice now I often tell the story above to warn of the dangers of “following your passion,” and instead suggest people focus on the process of the work they will be doing. Do they like each day? Perhaps not every day, that is likely unrealistic, but do they like what the work looks like for and to them on a day-to-day basis?

Your life is of course an accumulation of your days, so why not craft a career and a life where you enjoy those days? If you enjoy something, you are more likely to put in greater effort, as Cuban alludes to. Following this is where you can find that fulfillment so many of us seek.

Like so much else in life, with our careers we can get too focused on the destination at the cost of losing sight of the journey we will take to get there. Given life is what happens between the start and the finish, this is counterproductive. Rather than focusing on the results alone, we need to be mindful of the process as well.

It is not all one or the other; it takes both. As with any journey, we need to know where we want to go, and to look up enough to if we are on track to get there. At the same time, we also need to look down frequently enough that we don’t trip over the obstacles at our feet.

My Current “One Thing”

Tue, 18 Oct 2022 12:30:02 GMT

Someone recently asked me what lesson I learned that was having the biggest impact on my life. Without hesitation I responded: “Not making big decisions when I am tired.”

Maybe this lesson is so obvious to others that it isn’t worth mentioning. Or perhaps it is far more nuanced than sleep, and thus worth unpacking. Since this is my blog after all, I am going to proceed under the latter assumption, and if that isn’t the case for you, feel free to skip this one.

The thing is that when I don’t get enough sleep my world becomes grayer. I mean this in the literal sense. Every color I see is more muted. Regardless of how sunny the sky is, or how blue it might appear to others, there is a gray pallor over everything I see.

I also mean this in the metaphorical sense. Everything I think about also has a darker tint to it. It isn’t just going from a glass is half full to a glass is half empty mindset, but also further imagining a world where the glass has fallen from the table, shattered on the ground, and the water is spilled all around me. I see things in a darker, and more negative light, and further imagine things in an even darker light than that.

For much of my life, I think like most people, but I could be wrong, I wasn’t aware of these mood swings. I assumed my thinking was consistent day-to-day. I imagined my quality of thinking and problem solving was not hampered by what else may be happening internally. Truth be told, I am not sure I even noticed there were “things happening internally.”

And then, I had a child. As good as Talulla eventually got at sleeping through the night, she certainly didn’t start that way. In those early days, experiencing the true torture of sleep deprivation, I found more and more days were dark for me. And this was true at a time that could have and should have been the happiest of my life. I was now a father!

Then a funny thing happened, and it happened enough that I noticed a pattern. On nights she slept well, my days were so much brighter. Obstacles that seemed insurmountable only the day before were now mole hills as I viewed them in a more optimistic light, and more adeptly problem solved around them. This made me more cognizant of my mood swings, while at the same time helping me diagnose what was causing them.

My default is to be optimistic. I was once told by a colleague that when I hear the world “problem” my face lights up, and I can’t wait to jump in to work to solve it. But my default is not my permanent state. What knocks me off kilter most forcefully, commonly, and predictably is a lack of sleep.

All of this led me to a big change in my own life that I think might be helpful to others, and so I share it here.

First, I pause to notice when I am thinking about things differently than I might otherwise do. Knowing I am normally optimistic, if I find myself going to a more negative place, I am now able to mentally step back and ask myself why that is. I do have the added signal of also noticing my physical environment seemingly get darker, which helps. You may not have the same “symptoms,” but understanding what your own mood swings look like for you will help you start to build the ability to notice them when they occur.

Next, once I notice this swing, I very deliberately choose to NOT think about any big issues. In those negative moods I can quickly go to some dark places. This is incredibly unproductive, and unnecessarily painful. No good comes from it. When I successfully notice via step one, I go through the internal conversation of: “Not today, Andrew. Whatever this problem you are starting to worry about is, today is not the day to dig into it. Get a good night’s sleep and revisit tomorrow.”

The third and final step is to revisit the problem I put off. I am not trying to take the approach of an ostrich and bury my head in the sand forever. I still want to understand and deal with the problem at hand, I just want to do it when I am at my best. The reality is that most of the time the problem that seemed so pressing and horrible when I didn’t have enough sleep was all in my head in the first place. There wasn’t even a problem to address. Spinning my wheels on it while sleep deprived would have been a terrible idea.

For those other times where the problem is real, and must be addressed, tackling it after a good night’s sleep enables me to think through it not just from the downside, but also makes me capable of seeing it from the upside as well. This makes me far more effective in dealing with it productively, and that makes all the difference.

I don’t and can’t get a great night of sleep every night. I am pretty sure none of us can. I can’t prevent all mood swings and “down” times. However, noticing what is most likely to trigger them, and minimizing them helps. Noticing when they are happening and limiting the damage from them, psychological and otherwise, helps even more.

What is your own recent life lesson that is currently helping you? I would love to hear from you as together we continue our learning journey that is life.

Ichi-go Ichi-e

Tue, 11 Oct 2022 12:30:00 GMT

This past weekend was a special one here in Bermuda. It marked the 32 ^nd annual “Round the Sound” swim. This event is a local open water swimming staple, with five distances ranging from 800 meters up to 10 kilometers. It also has participants from a wide range of ages from ~9 years old, to literally over 90-year-olds.

It was also special because this year five of my good friends and former college swimming teammates came out to participate (taking the gold in three of the five distances in the process). Getting to splash around with people I had not seen in years, and to catch up with them beyond the competition was a particular highlight of the weekend for me personally.

And as great as everything was, I am being honest when I say that during the actual swimming of the 10-kilometer race, it didn’t always feel great. In fact, many times over the course of the day I found myself looking forward to a time after the race and daydreaming about when the race would be over and I would not be grinding away like I was in that moment.

Also, each time this occurred and I noticed it happening, I thought back to the Japanese concept of “Ichi-go ichi-e” that I learned about last December. Most literally Ichi-go ichi-e translates as “one time, one meeting.” More broadly it describes the concept of treasuring the unrepeatable nature of a moment.

I know what some of you might be thinking, surely you want the painful nature of those 10k moments to be unrepeatable! However, I would disagree. As Henry David Thoreau rightly said: “As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.” Each moment, every single moment, is one that only exists and ever will exist in that moment. Spending that moment, or any moment, waiting for the moment to be over, waiting for “next,” is a waste of the most precious gift we are given in this life: the gift of right now . The literal present of the present.

Regardless of what my shoulders might have been feeling in any moment during that race, every single moment also had its own unique and unrepeatable beauty if only I opened my mind enough to see it. From sharing the water with my friends, to also seeing and noticing that I was sharing it with spotted eagle rays (which I saw several times), as well as parrot fish and other amazing Bermudian sea life, every stroke, indeed every moment was something I should appreciate, and found that I could appreciate when I had the right mindset.

The race could have been something I chose to suffer through, or time I was trying to kill until it was over. The two hours in the water could also individually and collectively be some truly magical moments. I had that choice. I chose the latter option.

Later that same day my six-year-old daughter was asking about people’s ages and commenting based on how old they were on how close or far away from death she perceived them to be. When I caught on to what she was doing I pointed out that none of us know how close or far we are from death. Any of us, regardless of age, can be taken from this earth at any moment.

I explained that this wasn’t a bad thing, but rather should be a motivator to appreciate the beauty and opportunity for beauty that every moment we get holds. Unlike in Nikki Erlick’s The Measure , none of us know how long we have to experience and appreciate, or not, these moments. We can choose to be a person who “kills time,” or we can choose not to be that kind of person.

I won’t pretend I am great at this, or that it comes naturally. There is a reason I had to repeatedly remind myself of Ichi-go ichi-e during the race. There is a reason I must remind myself of it when I step outside to appreciate a sunrise or sunset, only to feel the itch to pull my phone out of my pocket and check for any recent notifications.

There is much in this world that wants to pull us from this moment, not least of which are the default settings of our own brains. The magic of Ichi-go ichi-e helps to remind me that the default does not and should not be where I leave things. It helps me come back to this moment, every “this moment” I am lucky enough to experience.

And so, as I close, I do so wishing you your best moment right now. And in the next as well…

Making Things Harder Than They Need to Be

Tue, 04 Oct 2022 12:30:00 GMT

In a prior article I wrote about my normal approach to my daily open water swim . Knowing I will be more tired on the way back, I typically plan to swim out against the current so that I have a little help for my return trip. However, with a 10km race coming up and there being no way to know for certain what the race conditions will be ahead of time (last year’s race had a hurricane hit the day before!), I recently decided to mix things up.

I knew the wind was coming in from the east, and yet, jumping in, I decided to start by swimming 3.5km west of my house. To say I didn’t question my decision a few times on the swim back would be a bald-faced lie.

On that decidedly longer return trip, I had time to think. As difficult as the return swim was, I kept reminding myself how much more difficult the race would be had I not prepared myself with this sort of training. I also thought back to advice my friend Gary Brantley gave me from his experience as the CIO of Atlanta when the city was preparing to host the Super Bowl: “When crisis hits, you don’t want that to be the first time you’re dusting off the playbook.” We don’t rise to the occasion, he likes to say, so much as fall back on our training.

This made me realize that there are good reasons we might want to make things more difficult on ourselves than they have to be at times. As a swimmer, in training we often chose to wear drag suits. This wasn’t just because they are more comfortable, but also because we felt and were that much faster on race day when we took them off. And this approach is not limited to swimmers. In many other sports people will train with artificial impairments such as weighted vests. It helps them build strength, both physically in getting their muscles stronger, as well as mentally that they can do things that are hard.

But it isn’t just in sports that this concept has value. A similar approach is recommended in teaching speed reading. First, turn the pages so fast that you can’t possibly comprehend what is written on them. Then, slow down from there until you can start to understand what you are reading. What would still be far faster than your normal baseline suddenly feels slow and easy. It is like slowing a car down from 60mph to 30mph. In that moment, 30mph feels very slow, whereas if you went from 0mph to 30mph that same speed would feel pretty fast. By training our eyes and mind for a more difficult situation, it makes a still difficult but slightly easier situation feel even that much easier and more doable.

This same approach of making things harder on ourselves than they need to be is one that can serve us in many guises, both professional and personal. The rationale is one part training in preparation for a challenge that might occur, and another part setting ourselves up for things to feel more achievable and easier even if the specific expected challenge never comes to pass.

Still, we must be careful we don’t overdo it. As Greg McKeown rightly points out in his book, Effortless: Make it Easier to Do What Matters Most, life doesn’t have to be as hard as we often make it. There are times where “resistance training” makes sense and is truly beneficial. Most of the time, however, we should look for the easier path. Even professional athletes and body builders don’t resistance train all the time. They do so in periodic bursts. To chronically do so would be counterproductive to their objectives of peak performance and achievement.

The same is true for the rest of us. “Resistance training,” whatever that means in a specific context, has a time and place, but we need to be deliberate in defining what those are and limiting ourselves to those specific parameters. To do otherwise is like trying to drive through life with our parking brake on.

Small Batch: Creating Your Craft Life

Tue, 27 Sep 2022 12:30:02 GMT

We live in a world of mass production, and mass consumerism. The “most successful” businesses are those that succeed in scaling. To do so, you must figure out how to consistently deliver a product or service to more and more people.

That was the genius behind McDonald’s, and so many fast-food restaurants and other scaled businesses since then. It is one thing to make a delicious hamburger for your family. It is another to do so in a restaurant consistently for strangers. And it is a different world entirely to do so across thousands of restaurants across the world day-in-day-out and year-in-year-out. Few get this right. This is where many businesses break.

As the businesses seek scale, since that also scales their revenues and profits, we as consumers end up living and consuming a more and more mass-produced life. We receive the same product or service as our neighbors Alice and Alex, as well as the same that Angelo and Anika receive a continent away. From the beds and sheets we sleep on, to the shoes and clothes we wear, to the food we consume in our home or in a restaurant, our consumption, and thus most of our lives, are lived tapping into this mass-production.

The thing with mass production, though, is that to work, to deliver that consistency, it often must distill everything down to the lowest common denominator. It doesn’t allow for quirks in taste and preference. You, Alex, Alice, Anika, and Angelo all get the same thing, even if you might want something just a little bit different.

And this is where small batch and craft production is taking off. From beer and whiskey to ice cream and clothing , to limited edition vacation rentals , the beauty of small is that by definition it doesn’t seek to get big. It knows it doesn’t appeal to everyone, nor does it try to. It is what it is, and it finds those for whom it is the perfect fit, or at least the more ideal fit than its mass-produced brethren.

And so, if small batch and craft is ironically generating mass followings, is it now time to look with new eyes at the life we live? How much of our day-to-day is just left to the “default settings” in which we find ourselves? Where have we outsourced the thinking and the work to others, others who are seeking scale, and so solve for the lowest common denominator rather than solving for what the right answer for us is? What areas of our life are worth the time and attention to curate and craft bespoke to an N of 1, i.e., built entirely around and for us and us alone?

Rarely do we stop to ask these questions. Even more rarely do we act upon them to do the hard work necessary to craft that life we would design if we were in the driver’s seat. And shouldn’t we be the drivers? Do we want to live a life of mass transit, with our only options being the generic stops everyone else has, or do we want to dictate our own path and journey? And where are we ultimately trying to get to?

If we don’t know where we want to go, it is unlikely we will get there. If we don’t choose how we proceed in getting there, it is unlikely anyone else will craft the path that is the right one for us.

All of this is time consuming, and by definition not scalable. But if there is an area worthy of craft creation and consumption, shouldn’t it be this single life we have to live?

Here’s to crafting and living a small batch life!

Breaking the streak

Tue, 20 Sep 2022 12:30:00 GMT

We are suckers for streaks. Think of Joe DiMaggio’s hitting streak, the Celtic’s eight straight NBA Championships, or Wayne Gretzky’s consecutive game scoring streak to just name a few from sports alone.

But it isn’t just in sports that we track streaks. One of the most tracked and promoted metrics on learning apps like Duolingo is the “consecutive days” streak that users build and work to maintain. Continuing and extending this streak, as well as the fear of breaking it, keeps their users (including me) logging in day after day. It is what makes these apps “sticky” and helps them achieve multi-billion-dollar valuations.

But I am learning that for me, streaks can also have their downside. This may just be a result of my somewhat compulsive personality, but in my pursuit of streaks I can find I lose sight of why the streak or activity in question is or was important to me in the first place.

One example is my consecutive days swimming in the ocean since we relocated to Bermuda. Since I became a resident here in October of 2020, I have swum in the ocean every single day I have been on the island. There are days I don’t really feel like it (you know, when a hurricane is coming through!), and yet, to not break the streak, I hop in to make sure I get at least a few hundred meters in. Why?

The original answer was that I did not want to take this opportunity for granted. I did not want to become so inured to living on an island that I stopped taking advantage of the ocean that is my backyard. I wanted to make sure I still appreciated and embraced the amazing opportunity that living here presented.

The question is, is my streak now getting in the way of that? Making sure I don’t take something for granted, that I am appreciative of the opportunity, is the goal, not the streak. The streak was initially just a proxy for measuring that. Maybe now that proxy measurement is getting in the way of the actual goal . I focused on what was easy to see, and lost sight of what I was actually pursuing in the first place.

The same is perhaps true for my exercising. The day Talulla was born, I had my shirt off for skin-to-skin with her, and the nurse said: “make sure you don’t get a Dad bod now!” To ward this off, I have not missed a day of working out since that day, literally. That might be the right thing, but it might also mean that 6+ years in, working out when I am healthy and when I am sick, I am now chronically overtrained. Is that streak helping? It might instead be getting in the way of the objective.

Or my Duolingo streak. Now more than 365 days long, is my compulsive need to extend it daily helping in my ultimate goal? I would have to unpack that. I started studying Mandarin because Talulla was studying it, and I wanted to be able to do that with her. If I am pressed for time, and find myself in the app instead of spending time with her, again, is the streak helping me or hurting me in what I really want to achieve?

These are certainly specific and personal questions to me and my life, but I think the same questions or at least types of questions are applicable more broadly. What in our lives are we doing and chasing because we have done and chased them in the past? How often do we revisit why we are doing or chasing them, and if the activity in question is the right or best way to do that?

For me, I am thinking through these now, but in transparency, I still haven’t “broken” any of the three streaks above. That being said, the next time a hurricane hits? You might find me on dry land, not in the stormy waters.

Final Destination

Tue, 06 Sep 2022 12:30:00 GMT

In Stoicism, Taoism, Buddhism, and so many other “isms” there is this concept of non-attachment. The fact that this same concept cropped up and continues to crop up in so many different places and times leads me to believe it is more a universal truth than something any philosophy or religion can lay claim to with any individualized authority.

There are different reasons for the desirability of non-attachment, particularly when it comes to “results.” Perhaps the most obvious is that the result, unlike the process and work we put into it on the front end, is not something we can control. Attaching our happiness or self-worth to this result would then be a recipe for disappointment as things will not always, or perhaps even in most cases turn out as we want.

However, I think another just as powerful justification for this non-attachment is that when it is all said and done, there is only a single result, and it is the same for all of us.

All of us default to chasing advancement in our careers, more money, medals and trophies, accolades, and the respect of others. It is in our human nature to do so. It is this constant striving that helped humans develop the wheel, harness electricity, sent humans into space, and developed vaccines that continue to save millions of lives.

It is also this striving that has pushed nearly 40% of Americans to now have symptoms of depression and anxiety.

This striving may be good for humanity, but is it good for the humans living and pursuing it? Perhaps most relevantly, is it good for you?

This is where I find another Stoic concept to be helpful, though again, one over which it does not necessarily hold a monopoly. The concept I am referring to is that of Memento mori, or “remember that you have to die.”

Perhaps this seems unnecessarily morbid for a blog post, but I would disagree. “Morbid” is defined as “an abnormal or unhealthy interest in…death and disease.” What if this contemplation of our own mortality is healthier for us than pretending it does not exist? Maybe that would still be “abnormal” since so many of us choose to live our lives without ever pondering what is coming for all of us, but that still does not, in my mind, make it the right or the better answer.

Rather than being “morbid” to contemplate our mortality, and that finish line to which we are all constantly racing, Memento mori can be a liberating concept. Knowing the destination from the beginning, it frees us to not get attached to those mercurial “destinations” we would otherwise chase. As with climbing a mountain, every summit or milestone we reach inevitably opens new vistas still beyond our reach, an even better job, even more money, even greater “success.”

If our happiness or self-worth are tied to the destination, this is discouraging. If we instead are not attached to the summit as a destination, since there is only one destination that matters anyway, but rather focused on the process of climbing, of working, and of pursuing, then the new vistas become exciting new opportunities to continue the process, and the journey.

So, yes, the destination is the same for all of us. However, everything between our entering this world and that end? That is the process that matters. We all have an entirely individualized opportunity and responsibility to make what happens before that end point our own.

Given that, we might as well make that process known as living a masterpiece.

Too much of the wrong kind of good thing

Tue, 30 Aug 2022 12:30:01 GMT

To be alone, or to not be alone. That is the question.

At our heart, humans are social creatures. It has been argued that it was not just our large brains that allowed us to thrive as a species, but also our ability to work together in groups to do and accomplish more than any of us could have done alone . We need other people. We crave other people. And we are getting less and less time with them.

There is an obvious culprit here. I’m looking at you, COVID, with all your quarantining and social distancing protocols. And yet, what is obvious is not necessarily true. The pandemic of solitude began well before any of us had ever heard of COVID-19. Pundits were sounding the alarm bells of our American loneliness since at least the 1990s, and 2000’s Bowling Alone brought even more attention to this worrying trend. By 2018, two years before any lockdowns, one in five Americans reported always or often feeling lonely or socially isolated .

Certainly, a pandemic that legally forced us to spend time away from others did nothing to help ameliorate this negative trend. Since 2020 we have seen this sense of loneliness grow across the board, such that by 2021, 36% of Americans reported feeling serious loneliness, with that number climbing to an astounding and worrying 61% for young adults .

But…does being alone have to be a bad thing?

We certainly seem to think it is. In multiple studies, participants actually chose to receive electric shocks rather than have to sit alone with their thoughts.

It doesn’t have to be this way. Just as we need calories to fuel our bodies to keep us alive, but calories from the wrong sources are literally now killing us by the millions, perhaps our time alone is just the wrong kind time alone.

In his A Calendar of Wisdom Leo Tolstoy wrote: “Temporary solitude from all things in this life, the meditation within yourself about the divine, is food as necessary for your soul as material food is for your body.” But just as not all material food is created equal, so too does solitude have its varieties in quality and desirability.

We can get energy from processed foods that are dense in calories and “shelf stable,” but it is SAD to do so (SAD of course being the acronym of choice for the “Standard American Diet”). This can provide us the count of calories we might need to get through the day, but our bodies do not process these calories the same way as they would whole foods, and we are feeling and seeing the results as more than two-thirds of Americans are now overweight.

So too can we have time alone, as in not in or near the physical presence of other humans, but if we are spending the time doomscrolling on our phones, watching the ever-unfolding crises that the media portray, or even seeing the latest highlights of our online friends’ lives on social media, we are feeding our soul the same sort of empty calories that will and do wreck our waistlines. The results are just as deleterious, but felt in our minds, and our lives.

So, what is the answer? The answer is to take advantage of that time alone, not to run from it or hide from it. Don’t fill those moments of solitude with more images or noise, but rather embrace the quiet and look within. As Socrates said thousands of years ago, “the unexamined life is not worth living.” We can make ours worth living, more worthy of living, by feeding ourselves that food “necessary for our soul.” Every time we are alone, and we have our phone in our pocket and a television and/or computer in easy reach, it is like being in the kitchen with the bowl of fruit in front of us, but the bag of potato chips sitting just next to them.

Just as it is has been found that having cereal rather than fruit out on your kitchen counter leads to higher rates of obesity , so too has it been found that having your phone in the same room as you can make you stupider . Get those tempting sugar highs out of sight and out of mind. Sit with yourself. Look within. Feed your soul with something of real substance.

And, also as Tolstoy wrote, make it “temporary.” We are still social animals after all. Get out and socialize with real live people. Social media is as close to the social connection that we all need as a Fruit Roll-Up is to eating actual fruit. Both have the right thing in the name, but only one is going to provide us with the sustenance our mind and body need to thrive.

Here’s to seeing you soon IRL.

A Tale of Two Companies

Mon, 22 Aug 2022 12:30:00 GMT

There was a time that Get Out of My Head had an entirely different beginning. With the news of Adam Neumann having just started another company post-WeWork that has already surpassed a $1 Billion valuation, I thought it was timely to share. Enjoy.

The world is changing in radical ways. For your career to survive and thrive, you need to embrace the ancient wisdom of the Stoics.

On August 14, 2019 WeWork founder Adam Neumann was on top of the world. Having just filed the paperwork to take his startup public, Neumann was as curious as anyone else to find out how much higher his stock could go. A last round of investment valued the company at a whopping $47 billion. Even the sky, it seemed, wasn’t the limit. Maybe he really was on his way to achieving his dream of becoming the world’s first trillionaire.

Barely a month later Neumann was unemployed, walking the streets of New York City, literally barefoot. Ousted from the company he created, with at least $40 billion completely wiped from WeWork’s “value,” he was finished. But where had he gone wrong?

WeWork appeared to be a purpose-driven company that sought to “elevate the world’s consciousness” by creating a different workplace for a different way of working. And yet, at the end of the day, WeWork better exemplified the zero-calorie sugar high of social media than the corporate sustainability it seemed to espouse. This gulf between image and reality was to be WeWork’s, and Neumann’s undoing.

Cut to 2008, on the other side of the United States. Two roommates struggled to make rent on the small apartment they shared. Both recent grads of the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD), their desperation gave birth to a small but tantalizing idea. They knew a big design conference was coming into town that would overwhelm the city’s hotels. Thinking quickly, they mapped out the extra space in their small apartment and determined they could squeeze in an additional three air mattresses on the floor. Airbedandbreakfast.com, later shortened to Airbnb, was born.

That first experience was a revelation for the friends. Not only hosting, but truly befriending their guests showed them the potential of this new concept. A few years later the roommates would travel to India to attend the wedding of one of those first guests. By that time, they were all well on their way to becoming billionaires.

These companies seem similar, and yet their fates and that of their founders couldn’t be more different. Why is this? Only the Stoics can explain. “The time will come when diligent research over long periods will bring to light things which now lie hidden,” Seneca wrote so long ago. That time is now.

What the Airbnb boys understood and embraced is that as we enter the 21 ^st Century we have moved away from the world of 20 ^th Century materialism and are instead moving into an era focused on the human experience. As more and more people shun the possessive nature of materialism, and instead value the experience that goods and services provide them, forward thinking businesses, entrepreneurs, and employees are learning that building for future success means serving a mission, not just delivering a product or service. When faced with disasters globally, the Airbnb team have been quick to react in a way that may not earn them additional money, but that delivers on their commitment to community. Examples range from the all-night hackathon after Hurricane Sandy that enabled those displaced to find free housing through the platform, to a similar response to COVID-19 that is enabling first responders to access free and subsidized housing, and a $17 million Superhost Relief Fund seeded with $9 million of the Co-Founders’ own money to help those hardest hit by the pandemic.

On the other side of the coin, WeWork’s founder and former CEO, despite deploying all of the right buzzwords about community, was mostly thinking about himself and what he could get. His questionable behaviors ranged from personally borrowing money from the company in order to buy real estate that he then leased back to WeWork for a premium, to selling the “We” brand to the company for millions when he decided to rebrand as “The We Company,” to his $1.7 billion exit package, negotiated even as the company was laying off thousands of employees. They say there is no “I” in “team,” but for Adam Neumann, his upside-down view of “we” most definitely came out as “me.”

Stoicism at Work is here to make the case that the defining difference between these two businesses and the people who built them, and the defining difference between sustained success and ultimate failure in the 21 ^st Century, is not just in understanding, but also in embracing, embodying, and living an ancient philosophy.

The difference is Stoicism.

Take for example Seneca’s statement: “I am not born for any one corner of the universe; this whole world is my country.” Every day we are reminded of just how interconnected the world has become. As such, this cosmopolitan mindset is crucial successfully scaling globally, and to doing so quickly. An online marketplace, Airbnb connects hosts from Austin, TX to Abuja, Nigeria. Whereas WeWork, despite its corporate-speak to the contrary, runs their business like a string of local real estate companies—“real” meaning immobile.

Or take the advice given by another Stoic philosopher, Epictetus, who advised: “If you wish to be rich, do not add to your store of money but subtract from your desires.” The entire ethos of Airbnb’s business has been to get away from the need for ownership, and instead create, scale, and support the access when and where it is needed. As a society, we do not need to go build more hotels. We can use the spaces we already have already more efficiently.

In stark contrast Neumann and WeWork tried to convince companies and their employees that they don’t need their own office space, then they loaded them up with perks nobody actually needed--from nitro cold brew coffee on tap to craft kombucha beer to tequila, Neumann’s personal fave. In old school fashion, they tried to whip up new wants instead of subtracting from the unnecessary.

Stoicism at Work is a blueprint for the future, created through an analysis and synthesis of the ancient past, with Marcus Aurelius, Seneca, and Epictetus as our guides.

And it works.

History does not necessarily repeat itself, but it does rhyme. For the reader, this book and the lessons herein will make the difference in the final word of the epic poem that is your own journey, as we choose to “prevail” instead of “fail.”

What do you do?

Tue, 16 Aug 2022 12:30:00 GMT

This is a question I get with regularity. Sometimes it is related to health, be it diet, exercise, or the combination of the two. Sometimes it is related to work, productivity, or my routine(s). Regardless of the focus, the question itself has always been one that bothers me.

For most of the time I have been receiving the question, and have been dodging it for the most part, I thought my reluctance to answer was driven by my belief that it didn’t matter what I did/do. What matters is what you do going forward. What I have working for me might be right for you, but then again it might not be. Why try and create a carbon copy of my life in your own? What works for me isn’t guaranteed to work for you. For all our similarities, we remain individuals, with our own mindsets, physiologies, personal microbiomes, circumstances, and more.

As I continued to receive the question repeatedly, I began to realize another reason I shy away from giving a straightforward answer. This is because what I do is not constant. This is intentional. I am constantly experimenting. For example, as I write this, I am three weeks into an entirely new workout regimen. How helpful would it be for me to tell you what I am doing if neither of us yet knows if it is “good” or not for me, much less you? And this isn’t just for exercise. I am also eight months in to going mostly plant based in my diet (NOTE: Katy tells me I can’t be “weird” so when we are at a friend’s house for dinner, I eat whatever they put in front of me). I take time to reassess my calendar, and thus routines, on a quarterly basis at a minimum. Asking me what I “do” seems to try and fix us both into a point in time that I sincerely believe will not serve either of us.

A recent conversation with my college roommate highlighted yet a third reason I believe these questions are misguided. He is in incredibly good shape, and his work colleagues ask him the same question. His point is that he cannot provide a simple answer as what they are seeking is less what he does today, and more how to be what he is today in terms of body composition. “That,” he points out, “is the result of years of compounding factors, diet, sleep, exercise, and more. If I gave you what I do right now, it is unlikely it would work like you expect. It is a process.” I couldn’t agree more.

For me, then, the question, or rather the question(s) behind the question really are of three kinds:

1. Basic curiosity on what I am (or someone else is) doing at a point in time

2. Outcome focused, i.e., how can I get the results you have?

3. Process focused, i.e., how do you go about testing, assessing, and iterating as a methodology rather than a point in time implementation of something specific?

Each of these are very different and would lead the interrogator down an entirely different path. The why behind the question matters. If just curious as to what someone else “does” to create some small talk, that is one thing. If desirous of achieving someone else’s results, besides that being a fool’s errand in my mind (comparison is the thief of happiness), I believe you are still better off focusing on #3 (process), rather than #2 (outcome).

This is because there is always room for improvement. It is also because our bodies and minds change over time, and we need to adapt and change with them. It is often said that if you always do what you have always done then you will always be what you have always been. With our mind and body, this isn’t actually true. For example, our metabolism slows 1% on average each year after we turn 30. If we do what we have “always done” on diet and exercise, we will not end up being what we have always been, but rather end up being fatter and less fit versions of ourselves of prior years. Thus, as the Red Queen informed Alice, “My dear, here we must run as fast as we can, just to stay in place.”

But in the end, maybe all of this is overcomplicating things. Not everyone wants to invest the time and mindshare to constantly experiment in their own lives. Many might not be looking for the exact process or even results of me or anyone else, but just the “shortcut” to get to a better place than they are today. In effect they are after the Pareto equilibrium: that thing that will get you to 80% of the way there with 20% of the work or effort.

This is real. In law school, several years out of competitive swimming, I found myself again eligible to swim for the university team in the UK because they didn’t have the same eligibility rules as the NCAA, where I had used up my four-years of eligibility. Years out of competitive shape, and training ~25% as much as I did when I was an NCAA swimmer, I was still able to go within a couple of seconds of my best times (i.e., 2% off in a 200-meter race). All that extra work was necessary for that last two percent, and what was required to compete at the highest levels. To get pretty close to those same results, though? That required a LOT less.

That is where simple rules of thumb can often suffice, like Dr. Andrew Huberman’s Tweet on diet and exercise . This won’t have you winning the Boston Marathon or any bodybuilding competitions, but for most of us, that isn’t the goal anyway. As with so much else, the answer is to be more thoughtful about why we are asking questions like this in the first place. What do we actually want? Without knowing where we want to go, it is unlikely we will ask the right questions, and receive the right answers, needed to get us there.

Why should you read this?

Tue, 09 Aug 2022 12:30:00 GMT

This was the question my friend Donovan asked me when I started the blog. Here is my answer.

This really should have been the first post when you think about it. Don’t just dive into the content, justify why anyone should bother reading that content in the first place! This seems so obvious that it should not have to be mentioned, and yet clearly it did because it was a question I had not yet asked myself, much less answered.

Indeed, this deceptively simple question was surprisingly difficult for me to answer. To get a handle on it, I had to go back further and ask myself why I was writing the blog in the first place.

For me, life is a learning journey. When I went through the Tony Robbins’ exercise on identifying and ranking your personal core values, I found my #1 consistently, day-to-day and year-to-year has been Growth. To grow, I must continue to learn. As I learn, I cannot get complacent in what I know, or overwhelmed by the enormity of what I have yet to learn, but rather maintain that same hunger and curiosity to learn even more.

And yet, as wonderful as all this learning feels, as much as all this learning has benefited me and my life, learning itself is an incredibly selfish act. It is, or rather can be, so inwardly focused. The time spent learning is definitionally time not spent elsewhere. The time I take to read is time I do not spend with my family (unless I am reading to my daughter), and the time I spend researching is time I am not spending doing something that is itself productive.

Learning is only of use and benefit if and when you do something with it. That research I do could make me 5X more productive at work, but only if I am researching the right thing, and only when I put into practice what I have researched. The time reading could make me a better father, husband, or friend, but again, only if and when I am reading something that has the potential to make me better, and even then, only when I internalize what I have learned and then act upon on it.

All of this is how to turn the learning into impact for my immediate sphere. My company, employees, and clients, my family, and my close friends. But as I have written more and more over the years, and as I continue to receive messages from friends and from strangers on the positive impact my learnings have had on their lives, I realized that by writing, by more publicly sharing what I discover and learn as I go can benefit others beyond my immediate circle.

This is why I started the blog.

But this is all about me, let’s get to you (finally!). Why should you read it just because I chose to write it?

To begin with, I am not 100% sure you should. I doubt this is for everyone. Maybe what I have learned and am sharing you already learned, internalized, and habitually act upon without any need for a reminder. Kudos. I am most definitely not the first person to learn these lessons, and so you have every chance in the world of being ahead of me on this same journey.

Perhaps my learning journey and process does not resonate with you. I get it. That is also great. You do you.

Or perhaps you are like me., or at least think like me in certain ways. Perhaps you too are a perpetual student of life, someone for whom the more you learn, the more excited you get about the more you now can and will learn.

If so, please share your own learnings and lessons as well. That is part of the learning process. The old cliché is that the best way to learn something is to teach it to someone else. Hopefully this blog can be a two-way street in that regard. I will continue to ponder and share what I learn and discover, and I sincerely hope you will do the same.

Thank you for reading.

Too much measuring, not enough that matters

Wed, 27 Jul 2022 16:56:39 GMT

Having written entirely for other platforms like Forbes and LinkedIn to date, I am trying something new with writing for my own blog. Thank you for joining me on this journey. Feedback encouraged and welcomed.

Today I want to unpack my experience with the “quantified self.” For those wondering what in the world I am talking about, Wikipedia says: “The quantified self refers both to the cultural phenomenon of self-tracking with technology and to a community of users and makers of self-tracking tools who share an interest in “self-knowledge through numbers.””

To be clear, I was NOT an early adopter here. In 2012 I had an analyst I worked with who had started down this path. Spreadsheet after spreadsheet of data on what he ate and when, when and how he slept, exercise details, specifics on what he was working on during specific time windows when at the office, and more. What he planned to do with all that data did not matter to me. It sounded like making life more work, and I was not interested.

Fast-forward a decade, and how times have changed. With the ubiquity of wearables and learning from people I admire like Tim Ferriss and Peter Attia about what they learned, changed, and improved in their own lives thanks to the data they get from their devices, in 2020 I jumped on the bandwagon. First it was an Amazon Halo, and then after including Whoop advisor Ed Baker in my book, I switched to the Whoop in 2021.

I have certainly gained some insights from the data captured, but nothing as groundbreaking as I may have foolishly expected. I don’t drink alcohol much or frequently, and when I do, the one or two drinks don’t seem to impact my sleep. I do drink caffeine daily but stopping for a week or two does not either help or hurt my sleep. The one insight that is likely to elicit some change is the knowledge that I am “over trained” (identified by my chronically low HRV for those interested). Having not had a day off from exercise (literally) since the day of my daughter’s birth, January 21, 2016, it might be time to start including some rest days in my life.

However, despite the limited insights from the data, the entire exercise of living a “quantified life” brought me to a far larger, and hopefully more impactful realization. The cliché, apparently incorrectly attributed to Peter Drucker, is that “what gets measured gets managed.” Given my rather compulsive personality, this is doubly true for me. What I was measuring is what my device reported on. How much REM sleep? How much Deep sleep? What was my recovery score? What was my strain yesterday? And this behavior carried over to other parts of my life like tracking every book I read or listened to, and more.

Two years into the experiment I got a similar feeling as I had the first year of my daughter’s life. At the time I had a disagreement with my wife about “who is doing more.” To try and “win” the argument, because trying to win at marriage is not just a terrible idea, right(?), I began tracking each minute I spent with our daughter, my wife spent with her, and that we spent with her together. Within two weeks I noticed that something that was literally my favorite part of my life (spending time with my daughter), I was starting to think of as a chore. Tracking my time with her as if I was a first-year associate at a law firm and she was my client made it feel like work. That was not the result I expected or would tolerate. I stopped immediately and resigned myself to “losing” the argument. My time and enjoying that time with my daughter was far too important to measure.

My experience with the quantified self has been similarly very different than initially expected or desired. By constantly fixating and trying to optimize the metrics my wearables tracked, I began to miss out on what I was not measuring. Yes, getting my ideal number of hours of sleep each night made my weekly and monthly dashboard look better, but did declining to spend some time just relaxing and watching a Netflix show with my wife make my Life (will a capital “L”) better? Consistently getting to bed and getting up at the same time, even on the weekends, was better for my physical health, but what did being so rigid in that such that I missed out on all sorts of socializing activities with friends do to the quality of my life?

Because I was not measuring these, for too long I never even asked the question. No more.

I am now moving away from the “quantified self” and to the “qualified self.” The quality of my life, and I believe any life, cannot be simplified down to a few easily identifiable data points. This is not to say I will not track and assess my life. After all, as Socrates said thousands of years ago, “the unexamined life is not worth living.”

For me, however, I am just going to spend more of my time examining more of what truly matters to me, and that, no device is currently able to track. That’s on me.

Curiosity, and the benefits of a child-like mind

Wed, 27 Jul 2022 16:56:39 GMT

Spending a time with a child is a real gift. This is certainly true for many reasons, but the one that really jumps out to me today is the curiosity they spark, and actually regenerate. There was a time, I think, when we all held this same curiosity. When we first became aware of the leaves changing colors in the fall, and wondered, why? When we would see clouds move in the sky and wonder, how? When we knew how little we actually knew, and when we weren’t embarrassed to admit it, but rather used it as a launching pad to learn more.

It was after becoming a parent that I recaptured this childlike curiosity. When I say childlike here, I don’t mean it in a pejorative sense, but in the best possible meaning of the word. Children’s brains are far more plastic than adults, far more capable of learning. Part of this is biology, but I have to believe a big part is also psychology.

As we advance in school, it becomes less acceptable to admit you don’t know something. In fact, your grades are based on what you do know. As you climb up the slope of accumulating more and more knowledge, your perception of what you know and understand climbs even more steeply. By our teenage years many of us (myself included) think we “know it all,” and right as we have access to some of the best resources for learning, and the time to do such learning, our minds are often at their least receptive.

Eventually we move to a job, and there is no doubt a learning curve there, but again, this is relatively narrow. Once established we can, if we don’t look too far, get this mistaken perception that we know far more than we do.

This is not true for everyone. There are some who admit that the more they learn, the more they realize they do not know. Every summit of knowledge they reach just makes more obviously visible the peak beyond that one. This is far closer to reality. Even on some of the most basic questions, how much do any of us really know?

Think of things we use every day, like an internal combustion engine (for those of us without electric cars, yet). How well could you explain the detailed mechanics of how it works, and how it is powered, and how it in turn is able to propel the car forward while generating the energy required to provide air conditioning and power the radio all at the same time? How many could actually go recreate the engine if we woke up in a world where it no longer existed?

Or how about something we see or feel around us at all times? Take the wind for instance. How many of us can explain why it is sometimes warm, sometimes cold, sometimes light, sometimes gale force? It is one of those things I at least think I know, that is until asked the question by a child and then put in a position where I actually have to explain it in detail. Then I realize just how little I actually know or understand.

Maybe you agree with all of this, but you still are asking why any of it matters? If we are able to get by day to day without knowing all of these things, then why should we care? The answer for me is that we lose a great deal when we move away from childlike curiosity. We lose the hunger to learn and grow. If we are to grow as individuals, and as a society, we have to be openminded enough to recognize what we don’t yet know and understand, and at the same time desire and work to fill those gaps. We must have a child’s lack of self-consciousness about what we don’t know, and about appearing foolish when we try something new that we aren’t (yet) good at. Curiosity is way too powerful and beneficial to be wasted on children alone.

So how do we do it? The first step I think is to regain that humility required to embrace what we don’t know. We don’t even have it when we are young because no one expects us to know much, and thus we don’t place those unrealistic burdens on ourselves. As we get further in school, those expectations grow. As we move along in our career, they increase ever further. As we become parents ourselves and are the ones on the receiving end of the incessant “why,” we feel we must be the source of the answers. But what if instead we were ok saying, “That’s a great question! Let’s go learn that together.” What if we could have the humility to embrace our ignorance?

If we can, that makes the next step that much easier: stimulating our curiosity. Once you release the expectation that you already know, once asked about something you are more likely to also be curious as to the answer. Even next level, you might start asking these questions on your own, no sidekick child required! Rather than just seeing something and taking it for granted, you might get curious about the underlying mechanics, about who came up with the invention or idea, when, and why. You might get excited enough to pursue your own learning journey without any idea or limitation on where it can lead you.

The third and final step is to prioritize. Realizing how little you know can be overwhelming and daunting. Far easier to put your hands up and accept defeat than to start to tackle the infinite universe of things you do not understand (string theory anyone?). But if you do this, you are doing a disservice to yourself. Many of us have just assumed our cognitive abilities will and must decline as we age, but this may just be another area where we think we know and understand something without truly doing so.

Research has found that the more learning older people pursue, the faster they actually learn, and also the more they become like younger adults themselves. More and more studies of the brain’s anatomy have revealed: “ that the adult brain is far more fertile than expected, and more than capable of sprouting the connections necessary for profound learning. ” The point being that you don’t have to learn everything, but rather just the humility to admit to yourself that you don’t know everything so that you then will have the curiosity to go learn something. What that something is matters less than that it is new, fresh, and interesting to you. It is also important that this becomes a way of living, not a one-off exercise. Learning is not something that is just for one phase of our life. It is a lifetime sport.

Find what you want to learn more about and go get started. Your life will be richer for it.