Philosophy

Tiny-but-real decisions

Life, Philosophy, Reading / /

Tiny-But-Real Decisions

In Meditations for Mortals, Oliver Burkeman says the main problem with how we approach decision-making is that we treat decisions as things that happen to us. Should we accept the marriage proposal? Take the job offer?

But the far more life-enhancing approach is not to wait for decisions to come along, but to hunt them. “In other words,” he says, “to operate on the assumption that somewhere, in . . . .your work or your life, lurks at least one decision you could make, right now, in order to get unstuck and get moving.” Steve Chandler refers to this decision-making as a form of choosing—similar-sounding but massively different from ‘trying to decide’ or figuring out what to do next. “You could fritter months trying to work out how to best begin the screenplay you’ve been meaning to write and you might never succeed,” Burkeman writes. “But to take the three opening scenes you’ve been pondering and just choose one is the work of a moment, and unequivocally within your capabilities.”

There are only two rules. The first is that your decision must be an action; you can’t just decide in your mind—you have to take a physical step. The second rule is that the step doesn’t need to be grand. It can be as small as you like.

Keep making these tiny-but-real decisions, and eventually, you’ll reach the point where finishing—the screenplay, the album, the grant proposal—is just the next step.

The solution wasn’t perfect…but they were making progress

In 1881, Booker T. Washington arrived in Tuskegee, Alabama, to be a leader for the new Black industrial schools. At the time, the conditions of schools for Black children “were worse than stables that housed farm animals,” writes Sharon McMahon in The Small and the Mighty. Any money mainly went to the teacher’s measly salaries; there was no money for books or materials. If Washington needed funds, he would have to raise them himself.

Businessman and philanthropist Julius Rosenwald had recently read and was touched by Washington’s autobiography Up from Slavery. The two became friends, and Washington asked Rosenwald to help fund six one-room schools for Black children. Rosenwald, who had recently given nearly all of his fortune away to various charities—about $21 million in today’s dollars—and had a little left over, agreed on the condition that the state and community match his contributions. Booker readily agreed, as he “believed in JR’s philosophy that people appreciate gifts more when they are required to contribute,” writes McMahon. “Making the recipient contribute funds demonstrated that there was public support for the initiative, and it meant that the recipient was likely to take care of the resources it used.”

Over the next two decades, Julius Rosenwald, partnering with Black communities and the Tuskegee Institute, built five thousand schools. The community rallied and gave what they could. One of JR’s employees of the Rosenwald fund said, “I have never seen greater human sacrifices made for the cause of education. Children without shoes on their feet gave from fifty cents to one dollar and old men and old women, whose costumes represented several years of wear, gave from one to five dollars. . . . It should be borne in mind that funds with which this project was completed came from people who represented a poor working class, men who wired at furnaces, women who washed and ironed for white people, and children who chopped cotton in the heat of the day for money to go in their snuff boxes.” Sharon McMahon writes, “Everyone did what they could, where they were, with the resources available to them.”

Thanks to the Rosenwald schools, hundreds of thousands of children were now being educated. The schools were still segregated and unequal, but Booker and JR knew that “they were working within the confines of an existing societal structure . . . . educating students had to be realistic.” Still, they “change[d] the course of history in an imperfect way.” The Rosenwald schools provided education for children who would go on to become famous civil rights leaders, including Maya Angelou. “And so while the schools were not equal or integrated . . . . without their ability to become educated, integration and equality under the law would not have occurred. Education was simply too powerful a weapon, and without the lift from JR, there is little chance that states would have allowed African Americans to wield it.” Without imperfect solutions, without tiny-but-real decisions, progress would not have been made.

Something in the bag at the end of each day

Between 1947 and 1948, President Harry Truman moved at a rapid pace. There was much to do. “Plans had to be conceived and clarified with minimum delay, imagination applied, decisions reached, and always with the realities and imponderables of politics weighed in the balance.” McCullough writes. “The pressure was unrelenting.” In response to critics, naval commander George Elsey would say, “‘You don’t sit down and take time to think through and debate ad nauseam all the points. You don’t have time. Later somebody can sit around for days and weeks and figure out how things might have been done differently. This is all very well and very interesting and quite irrelevant.’”

If there was one thing Harry Truman was good at, it was getting things done. He said his greatest responsibility as President was to make decisions. He had to decide. He had to make a choice and act on it. In one of Harry’s initial meetings with Stalin and Churchill, Churchill proposed they discuss three or four points at each meeting. This frustrated Truman to no end. “‘I don’t want to discuss, I want to decide,’” he’d say. “Truman had kept insisting on results, not talk,” writes McCullough. He wanted “something in the bag at the end of each day.” A tiny-but-real decision. A move forward, imperfect or otherwise.

Books Read:

–The Man with the Golden Typewriter by Fergus Fleming is a collection of letters that Ian Fleming wrote while working on various projects, including the James Bond series. I skimmed through the more obscure and long-winded sections but found some valuable insights on writing, editing, and publishing.

-Did my yearly reading of Meditations.

–The Baby on the Fire Escape by Julie Phillips was fantastic. It’s full of mini-biographies of mothers who were writers and artists and how they navigated creative life and motherhood. Really great stuff in here on self and authenticity.

-Wow. Ethan Mollick’s Co-Intelligence: Living and Working with AI was eye-opening. Imagine a computer that doesn’t simply follow commands but “thinks” alongside you. That’s how Mollick says we should view artificial intelligence. Unlike an Excel spreadsheet that automates repetitive tasks, AI is more like a creative partner you engage with. Whether we like it or not, it’s here and already changing how we live and work. This book should be required reading.

-I LOVED Marva A. Barnett’s To Love is to Act: Les Misérables and Victor Hugo’s Vision for Leading Lives of Conscience. It’s part biography, part deep dive into how and why Huge wrote one of history’s greatest pieces of literature. Hugo fought for the poor, denounced capital punishment, and believed in the power of redemption. The novel’s heart—Jean Valjean vs. Javert, humanity vs. the law—reflects his own battles. Les Misérables, says Barnett, is ultimately a story about love and Hugo’s belief that it wasn’t enough simply to feel love and compassion—one must act on it. His philosophy is succinctly expressed in some of the last words he ever wrote: to love is to act.

From chaos to calm

Life, Philosophy, Reading / /

The other day, Courtney and I were lounging on the couch with the iPad propped up on the ottoman, watching the end of the Commanders-Lions game. I was looking at my phone, in my own world, when Courtney said, “Look how sad they are.”

I looked up toward the kitchen.

“No, on the iPad, the fans. Look how sad they are.”

I looked down. “Aw yeah, they do look sad.”

“Also, where were you looking?”

I laughed because I didn’t know. “I’m really not sure. I think I was looking in the general direction of where the (fur) kids are sleeping?”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about, that aloofness. As aloof as you are with things that matter, that’s how I need you to be with things that don’t. Instead of fixating on something trivial, treat it how you do everything else—say, ‘huh?’—and carry on.”

She was exaggerating, of course. Mostly. But it made me laugh, so it helped. She’d spent hours consoling me earlier over something silly. Something so minor it wouldn’t even register for most people had sent a wave of anxiety through me to the point of panic. Worse, it caught me off guard—I’m usually pretty laid-back. (Courtney says if I were any more relaxed, I’d fall off the earth.) But there I was, obsessing over something small, a “first-world problem,” which added a layer of guilt as if I wasn’t entitled to my feelings. (By the way, your feelings are always valid. Never diminish them.)

Anyway, when I began writing this newsletter at the beginning of the month, I intended to reflect on how, over the years, I’d moved from a chaotic way of being to a calmer one. But then, midway through the month, the anxiety spiral thing happened. Writing about calmness felt hypocritical and untrue.

I’ve realized that calmness isn’t some fixed state you achieve and then get to keep forever. It’s not like you cross a finish line one day and suddenly you’re immune to life’s chaos. No, it’s more like a practice—something you show up for every day, even on the hard days, maybe especially on the hard days. Calm is the small rituals that anchor us when the current pulls, the conversations we have with our fears to keep moving forward. Calm isn’t the absence of storms; it’s the strength we find amid them.

With this in mind, I decided I didn’t want to just list the broader mindsets that have helped me live more calmly—though those are important, too. I also wanted to include more immediate remedies: the things I say to myself if anxiety starts to tighten its grip. Because let’s face it, it’s one thing to work toward a calmer life overall. It’s another to navigate the chaos when it’s right in front of you.

So that’s what I’ve put together—a mix of both approaches. Some are daily habits, others are simple truths I lean on when I need to pause and reset. I think they can help you, too.

Look at the inner thing, not the outer

Courtney said this to me a few weeks ago, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Most of our frustrations are just stand-ins for deeper issues. Instead of looking at the external event that triggered us, we might do better to ask ourselves why, exactly, we are triggered. You hate the wall color you just spent weeks painting, and now you can’t stop thinking about it. Is it truly about the color? Or is something deeper—maybe a need for control or perfectionism—at play? If it wasn’t the wall color, what would you be obsessing about in its place?

Challenge your thoughts, question your feelings. Push past the obvious and go deeper. The trigger isn’t the story, it’s just the opening chapter. Get to the root because that’s where the real work—and the real healing—happens.

Cracks are where you grow

Courtney said this to me recently too. It echoes one of my favorite Stoic mottos: the obstacle is the way. Obstacles aren’t nuisances or setbacks—they are the essential leverage we need to hoist ourselves forward. They sharpen us, fuel us, and force us to adapt. They instruct, giving us hope. They point out our weaknesses, giving us strength. When life throws us a curveball, we can take a step back from our immediate reaction and choose to see the obstacle for what it is—an opportunity. And why would you ever despair over an opportunity?

Is this in my control?

This is the ultimate life hack: knowing what we control and what we don’t. Our thoughts and actions are in our control; everything else is not. This distinction underpins a calm, organized, and effective life. Not only does it distill life’s chaos into a manageable sphere, it also shows us where to direct our energy so it will actually make a difference.

In 2018, I set out to earn my degree in half the time, which meant juggling eight classes in the fall semester while working full-time. On paper, it sounds like craziness. But in practice, it wasn’t so bad. My workload had increased, but my stress didn’t because I knew what I had to do each day, and I did it. I didn’t waste time worrying about things I couldn’t control, like outcomes, or gossip, or breaking news, or sports speculations, or what other people were doing. I knew that if I tuned out the noise, did my best at work each day, and knocked out a few school assignments each evening, the rest would take care of itself. It’s incredible the calm and clarity you get from this question: What’s my job at this moment?

Quit smoking cigarettes

Ever notice how smokers seem perpetually stressed? I would know; years ago, I was one of them. I had bought into the myth that smoking relieves stress. (A myth perpetuated millions of times in movies: the sweat-drenched protagonist steadies his trembling hand, fumbles for a cigarette, flicks the lighter—illuminating his troubled eyes—and exhales as if all his problems are now solved, his head lolling back in unadulterated bliss.) But here’s what we don’t see: the cigarette isn’t relieving stress—it’s just easing the withdrawal symptoms from the last cigarette. In other words, cigarettes only take away the pain they caused in the first place! (This was one of the many insights I took from Allen Carr’s Easy Way to Stop Smoking, which I can’t recommend enough!) When I stopped smoking, I calmed way, way down.

Just that you do the right thing

One of the fears I had about quitting smoking was that I wouldn’t be as alert or sharp without my nicotine fix. But then I would think about what Marcus Aurelius said, that the only thing that matters is that you do the right thing. Tired or well-rested, healthy or dying…or going through the withdrawals in the weeks and months after you quit smoking, the ceaseless craving for just. one. more. The only thing that mattered was that I didn’t give in.

Because that’s another thing Marcus Aurelius said: it can only harm you if it harms your character, otherwise it cannot harm you—inside or out. The addiction itself could not harm me. Only giving in to it could. If quitting left me moody or irritable, oh well. I’d get over it. But I wouldn’t get over the stress and health problems I’d cause myself if I didn’t quit.

Tranquility and peace are byproducts of doing the right thing.

Live in day-tight compartments

This idea was instrumental in helping me overcome my addiction. I would tell myself: all you have to do is make it to bedtime without lighting up. Just be strong until then.

Taking life one day at a time isn’t just a tool for breaking bad habits—it’s a tool for breaking free from worry. We have enough work to do today; tomorrow isn’t our job yet. Let’s give ourselves the gift of focusing on just this moment, just this day.

Keep your head where your feet are

Do you know what the fundamental spiritual state for the Stoics was? Attention. They focused on what was in front of them—each thought, each choice, each breath, each moment. They wholly willed their actions. They were intentional in what they chose to think about and do.

Why were they so committed to living in the present? Because they knew anxiety couldn’t touch them there! The things that disturb us—our worries, fears, longings—those things exist in the past and the future. The present moment is like a safety zone; anxiety hates it there. So the next time you feel overwhelmed, remind yourself that in this moment, with this breath, you are safe—and that’s more than enough.

See things for what they are

To help keep himself grounded, Marcus Aurelius practiced naming things plainly—roasted meat was a dead animal, a fancy bottle of wine was fermented grapes, etc. He did this so he wouldn’t get so worked up over things. We can benefit from this practice, too: a designer outfit is stitched fabric, a luxury yacht is a floating pile of fiberglass. So when someone brags about buying a 2.9 million dollar Batmobile, remember that they’re bragging about overpaying for a chunk of metal. I found this exercise particularly useful when I was younger and more susceptible to the allure of shiny things, but I still use it now. Life becomes lighter when you see material stuff for what it is—stuff. Nothing worth losing your peace over.

Journal every day

Each morning, I sit down at my desk and write in my journal. I put my thoughts on paper so I can untangle them, sift through them, and—when needed—gently let them go. I’m not just writing; I’m creating space in my mind for calm to step in, clearing out the clutter so I don’t drag it around all day. I try to ask myself meaningful questions. If something is bothering me, writing it down or tracing its outlines helps soften its grip. As Alain de Botton said, “What we call depression is in fact sadness and anger that have for too long not been paid the attention they deserve.”

Journaling is how we pay attention. Because if we don’t monitor our thoughts, we become vulnerable to their influence and control. We can end up living in the worst way: unconsciously. The things that agitate and derail us—materialism, lust for money or power, thinking we’re the center of the universe…what’s insidious about these things “is not that they are evil or sinful,” David Foster Wallace writes, “it is that they are unconscious.” Journaling makes the unconscious conscious.

If you don’t already have a journaling practice, try this: commit to writing in a journal for just 10 minutes every day (you can even skip weekends if you want!) for the rest of the year. You’ll be hard-pressed to find an activity more deserving of your time—or more foundational to your calm.

Read every day

I like how my friend Tommy Dixon—who gets up at 5 a.m. and reads for the first three hours—puts it: Reading can be difficult, but it’s never taxing. Reading calms and centers us, one of its many benefits. I took Tommy’s advice and started reading more in the morning. After I journal, of course.

Don’t be a jackass

In my late twenties, I wanted to do lots of things—get my degree, keep a blog, make more money, start a business, set up passive income streams, etc. The problem was that I didn’t know where to start. How could I make time for it all? Well, of course, I couldn’t. It was James Altucher’s blunt advice that opened my eyes: don’t be a jackass. Don’t bounce from one thing to another. Do one thing for a few years, then do something else for a few years. Resist the urge to do more, more, more. Ignore what other people are doing. Stay on your path, make a little progress each day, and enjoy your life. Repeat ad infinitum.

Let go of anger

“Why should we feel anger at the world?” Euripides pondered, “As if the world would notice.” I remember hearing that and thinking, whoa. I hadn’t realized how often my default response was anger—at bad drivers, rude people, the economy, the world, the injustice of it all, the uncertainty of my own path. Want to know where all that anger got me? Prison.

Just kidding. But I was in a prison of sorts, a mental one of my own making. The world was not the problem—my perspective was. So I redirected my energy toward changing myself. I let go of anger and chose love instead. Leo Tolstoy said that peace in our hearts can begin only when we look at the world with a loving disposition, and I’ve found that to be true. A shared smile, a helping hand, an eagerness to smooth out discord, a willingness to see the good in others…the quiet understanding that we’re all connected. The more I practiced this mindset, the more at home I felt—not just in the world, but in myself.

Get back to the rhythm

Life moves fast. It’s messy, unpredictable, and full of emotions we don’t always understand. We’re all trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Some days are better than others. Sometimes we’re in a funk. The trick is not to get stuck there. Get back to your rhythm as quickly as you can. That’s what Marcus Aurelius did. He chose not to fight against the chaos but instead fight to get back to his center, to his rhythm, as soon as possible. Go through the motions if you have to, but get back to the rhythm. And remember…

No matter what, it will all be okay

The other day, my mom told me something I really needed to hear: “Just tell yourself, no matter what, it will all work out. It always does, Em. It will all be okay.”

Books Read:

-Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks is one of my favorite books, so I had to pick up Meditations for Mortals. No surprise, he delivers. It’s about how to best use our limited time without stressing about how to use our limited time. Really good stuff.

-In No Cure for Being Human, Kate Bowler details her stage 4 cancer diagnosis as a young mother. She’s confronted with the big questions: what does this all mean? Why are we here? How should I spend the time I have left? Am I being selfish or selfless by following my calling? How will I know when I’m finished? Such a great book. I read this at the end of December, so I wasn’t able to put it in my best reads of 2024 list in time, but it’s one of the best reads from 2024!

–Molly’s Game by Molly Bloom was a fascinating read. Her memoir takes you deep into the high-stakes poker world—where Leonardo DiCaprio and Tobey Maguire were regulars—showing both the highs and the inevitable crash. It was gripping, fun, and full of unexpected moments (who knew Tobey Maguire was such a weirdo?). It’s a wild glimpse into a world most of us—thankfully—will never see.

-I’m obsessed with Pierre Hadot’s Philosophy as a Way of Life. Hadot reveals philosophy as a lived practice, a way to train the mind through journaling, meditation, and perspective shifts…I marked up almost every page.

-I can’t believe I hadn’t read George Orwell’s 1984—this might be one of the best books I’ve ever read. Orwell’s insights hit hard: “Until they become conscious they will never rebel, and until after they have rebelled they cannot become conscious.” The “thought police” made me appreciate how we can escape into our own minds whenever we want. Powerful, but easy to overlook. Another gem I loved was when the protagonist, Winston Smith, realized that the everyday, regular people were not mindlessly loyal to a party or an ideology, but to each other.

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46 ideas to revisit again and again and again

Life, Philosophy, Reading / /

Sometimes I forget important things I’ve learned.

I’ll jot down an insight and then rush to the next thing. It’s so much easier to go, go, go than it is to slow down.

But like food, wisdom does us no good if we just consume it. We have to break it down, digest it. It must become part of us.

So I spent time reviewing my journals from this year, revisiting what I’ve learned, and reflecting on the ideas that have most inspired and changed me. If something we learn doesn’t become more valuable the better we understand it, I’m not sure it was worth learning in the first place.

Said differently, the best ideas must be constantly revisited, reexamined, and reapplied to our lives.

That’s why I made this list of 46 ideas worth revisiting again and again and again…

  1. A calm, tranquil mind = happiness. In all things, make tranquility your aim. If a thought is agitating you, stop thinking about it. If an action needs to be calculated or will cause you to worry, don’t do it.
  2. People rarely fear what they should. We fear losing our jobs…not about whether we’re doing something meaningful. People are afraid of immigrants…not that they’re short of breath climbing a flight of stairs. We’re afraid to start…not that we might not start. We’re afraid of dying…not afraid of never truly living.
  3. The true measure of wealth is how much time you’re able to spend with the people you love most. Plenty of people are successful in business. Millions of people drive fancy cars. That stuff is easy. What’s harder is to moderate the impulse for more, to rewire the programming that says you’re not successful unless you make this much money or earn that coveted title. Being able to take a random afternoon off and go hiking with my wife, that’s living the dream. Besides, who’s wealthier: the millionaire who’s always dashing off to “pressing” obligations? Or the person who says, sorry, you can’t afford my hourly rate? Because that’s the other measure of wealth: how many things you can afford to say no to.
  4. Don’t think about how long it will take. Just make a little progress each day.
  5. Where can you eliminate the inessentials from your life? Thoreau talks about a farmer who thinks he can’t live on vegetables alone because he needs a specific nutrient for his bones, so he toils away for this bone food. Meanwhile, another farmer in a different part of the world has never heard of this bone nutrient, yet his bones are just fine. There are so many things we think we have to do. But really, most things are inessential. We can cut them out altogether. Very little input is needed from us. Nature takes care of most things.
  6. Not wanting is the same as having; either way, anxiety is relieved.
  7. Willingness is the key. What good is it to have done something great but against your will? If you complained while doing it? This is how people tear themselves apart, Seneca said. The body goes one way, the mind another. To do something with reluctance is foolish. We must act on our toes, not our heels.
  8. Nature does the hard thing…and defends itself against all opposition to being spontaneously itself.
  9. Don’t settle for doing comparatively good things. Thoreau tells the story of the Englishman who traveled to India to make a fortune before returning to England to live the life of a poet. “He should have [become a poet] at once,” Thoreau said. “‘What!’ exclaim a million Irishmen starting up from all the shanties in the land, ‘is not this railroad which we have built a good thing?’ Yes, I answer, comparatively good, that is, you might have done worse; but I wish, as you are brothers of mine, that you could have spent your time better than digging in this dirt.”
  10. When you hear a piece of wisdom, don’t just think, “Oh, that’s great. Love it.” Spend time with it. Really think about how you can apply it to your own life. Then apply it.
  11. Wisdom means always wanting the same things and always rejecting the same things. If an action is consistent, you can be sure it’s right.
  12. Real dangers have inherent limits. Everything else is up to opinion and conjecture and, therefore, endless anxiety.
  13. The best work is the work that connects the human to the divine. William Blake believed he could help society most by using his imagination and creating his art. Elizabeth Gilbert said the best kind of life is one spent digging for buried treasures inside yourself. And it doesn’t matter if you’re paid for it. (In fact, it’s better that you’re not paid for it. That way, as Elizabeth Gilbert explained, you don’t put pressure on your creativity.) It’s so important to spend time each day doing work that is its own reward.
  14. Stop paying attention to other people’s curated lives. Your default response to most of the random information that bombards us every day should be holy shit I don’t care. Protect your time and attention more fiercely than your money and property.
  15. If you’re a parent, use your money to help your kids now. It’s not going to do them much good to give them an inheritance when they’re 60 and no longer need it.
  16. This is the #1 productivity/happiness rule I’ve found to be true: get up early. Give the first hour or two of the day to yourself. You can read or journal or go for a walk or sit and savor a cup of coffee or work on something you care about. (Just no getting on your phone!) The idea is to give the best part of the day, the morning, to yourself—before work, before your kids are yelling for you, before all the responsibilities of daily life demand your attention. It’s true: win the morning and you win the day.
  17. To that add: do the hardest work of the day in the morning. That way, the rest of the day is easy.
  18. Stop reading/watching the news. If you ask a good-humored, well-put-together person their secret, there is a zero percent chance they’ll say, “You know what’s really helped me be a better spouse? I watch a lot of news.” You can easily stay informed with a quick 3-minute weekly news scan.
  19. Our lifetime is short, a mere blip, the length of a pinprick. There are no vast amounts of time in our lives; how can there be a vast amount of basically nothing? Seneca asked. When we say something happened just now, that “just now” covers a fair portion of our lives, including the past, because our whole lives are so short. So we must be mindful of how we spend even “small” amounts of time—they account for much of our life!
  20. One of the problems with materialism is that too much attention on stuff dims the natural beauty of all around you. The people in your life are the brightest, shiniest things of all. Life, like a great story, is about people.
  21. It’s not intelligence but original thinking that will set you apart. Have some controversial ideas, too.
  22. Don’t think you need to read every book cover to cover. Something I want to do more of this coming year: more scanning, more diving in and out of books. Not letting a book sit endlessly on the shelf just because I think I have to read all of it.
  23. “The happy life is just one life,” Seneca said. It’s an error to compare your life to anyone else’s because your life is the only one you can possibly live. Another person’s life has no bearing on your happiness. If a person lives longer or bigger or more far-reaching, it does not follow that they live better. A life can be measured only by its own fullness. If you’re fulfilled, what does it matter how someone else is fulfilled? One eats less, the other more. What difference does it make? Both are filled.
  24. Diseases of the mind are the hardest to detect. The healthier we think our mind, the sicker it is.
  25. Value your time more than your income. Instead of trying to create more income, Thoreau built a small house in the woods and decided to create more time. Instead of seeing how much he could accumulate, he wanted to see how much he could do without. He found that by keeping his needs minimal, he could get by working just one day a week and take the other six off. Time is what makes a person happy, he said. Not fame or money. Time. Time for contemplation. Time for exploration. Time for your loved ones. Time for yourself. Time is happiness.
  26. Seeking praise will lead you astray.
  27. I recently heard a successful, near-retirement-age CEO of a midsize company say that if she were to sit down for breakfast in the morning with her husband and look at her calendar and have no meetings or business-related items on her to-do list for the day, that would be her biggest nightmare. And she was proud of it. I felt kind of bad for her. It made me think of what Josef Pieper said, that overwork can trick you into thinking you’re living a fulfilled life.
  28. You shouldn’t read books to impress people or as a way to escape. Reading should be for figuring things out, for understanding yourself and the world, for challenging yourself, and for learning from the experiences of others. (Here are some great recommendations!) A biography might take weeks to read, but the lessons you learn can save you decades of personal trial and error. That’s why even though it’s time-consuming, reading will always be the ultimate shortcut.
  29. The two tasks you have in life: be good and become more of yourself (by pursuing work you love).
  30. To create real change, you must learn how to attract and wield power.
  31. Done is better than good. Make stuff and put it out there. Who cares what other people think? Seriously, who cares? Stop worrying. As Marcus Aurelius said, ‘There’s no need to be anxious. Nature takes care of it all. Soon enough you’ll be dead, and the people who remember you will die too.’
  32. Trust yourself. It’s not that geniuses have all these great thoughts the rest of us don’t have, Alain de Botton said, it’s that they take them more seriously.
  33. Don’t be content with quoting others. You have to bring your own thoughts to the table.
  34. How much time do I waste entertaining every random thought that pops into my head?
  35. Better to waste money than time.
  36. You can’t just think your way into good ideas. You have to roll up your sleeves and do the work in front of you. Breakthroughs are often hidden in hard work.
  37. Serve the work. Don’t impose your will on it. Let it be what it wants to be.
  38. Mornings are great for idea-generating.
  39. In every moment, for every person, there is the opportunity for complete happiness because there is an opportunity to practice a virtue. In this way, happiness has a fixed limit. Once fulfilled, any additional pleasures can only slightly enhance it. In other words, there’s no need to take the long way; happiness is available right now, in the next reasoned action we take. It’s right in front of us. We just need to grab it.
  40. Who’s going to give you back your time?
  41. Important work—not urgent work—should make up the biggest portion of your day. Don’t get sucked into doing task after task after task. Too many urgent things on your to-do list might indicate a lack of planning.
  42. If everything you do is simply what you do, then there’s nothing to calculate and no reason to hesitate. There is no “being brave”; there is just being yourself. ‘That was a really brave thing for her to do.’ No, that was a really her thing for her to do. That’s what she does. She moves from one necessary activity to the next and regards the outcome as irrelevant.
  43. Grateful is the best state of being. It is divine. At the end of my life, I hope to leave grateful and without complaint, as Marcus Aurelius said, “like an olive that ripens and falls. Praising its mother, thanking the tree it grew on.”
  44. Don’t be satisfied with doing work that gets you by. Find work to be invested in. You get one life. Why would you spend it doing things you don’t care about? I love how Elizabeth Gilbert put it: “What else are you going to do with your time here on earth—not make things? Not do interesting stuff? Not follow your love and your curiosity?”
  45. A great way to live: follow your interests and share them with the world.
  46. And finally, one of my favorites: We can’t always be calm. But we can make an effort to be calmer than we were last year.

Books Read This Month:

–The Small and the Mighty by Sharon McMahon was one of the best of the best books I read this year. It’s full of mini-biographies of real people who were powerless by society’s standards but created their own power through creativity, daring, and perseverance. These lesser-known but arguably most important characters of history accomplished more than probably what even they thought was possible. It’s hard to read this book and not be inspired. It’s seriously so good.

-Oh my goodness, The Night of the Grizzlies by Jack Olsen is SO good. In 1967, Montana’s Glacier Park allowed campers to feed the grizzly bears. After dinner, they would throw table scraps down from the lodge and onto the campgrounds to watch the grizzlies dine. Warnings are ignored, and the suspense ratchets up because we know what’s going to happen: two nineteen-year-old women are killed on the same night by two different grizzlies in two separate locations.

-I loved Lincoln: The Biography of a Writer by Fred Kaplan. It’s a biography of Lincoln in the context of the books he read and how they shaped his thinking and writing. Lincoln believed the written word to be humanity’s most important invention—an invention he used to create his most famous speech and forever shape how we view America…

–Lincoln at Gettysburg by Garry Wills is another one of the best books I read this year. Lincoln was a master of persuasion. Today’s politicians speak in polarizing, black-and-white, us vs. them terms, so it was especially refreshing to read Lincoln’s speeches. Any crowd he spoke to, he always found the common ground, the ‘Hey, I want what you want’ approach. And this approach wasn’t a ploy—he did want what they wanted because he knew that all people mostly want the same things; all the rest was rhetoric. He instinctively knew how to speak to people on both sides. Just a master communicator. And what I learned has helped me tremendously in my own conversations with people. I marked and dog-eared almost every page.

–I got some great stuff from Cal Newport’s book on productivity without burnout. Slow Productivity consists of three things: do less, work at a natural pace, and obsess over quality.

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I learned that tranquility consists of these two things

Life, Philosophy / /
Mogollon Rim

We tend to think of tranquility as idleness.

We picture an undisturbed monk sitting cross-legged on a mountaintop somewhere, free from the stressors the rest of us face. Or maybe we imagine a woman doing yoga on a beach, smiling as the sun rises and the sound of the waves hush her worries and cares. Courtney likes to “joke” that if we had kids she would end up faking her own death and moving to Costa Rica. And really, all of us think this way sometimes. That we have to “get away from it all” to have some peace.

But that’s not what tranquility is. At least that’s not how the Stoics saw it.

For them, tranquility was something inside us, independent from what was going on around us. The world can go to pieces, but that doesn’t mean we have to. A barking dog doesn’t have to grate your nerves. A song can be awful…or interesting.

According to Seneca, there are two reasons why people lack tranquility: they cannot adapt and they cannot endure.

A tranquil person adapts. They know that one of the easiest ways to ease anxiety is to let go of a fixed idea of how they want things to be and instead embrace them as they are. They endure. They know that staying the course—past the pain, past the boredom, past the uncertainty—puts them in control of themselves and, therefore, calms them.

One of my favorite stories from one of my favorite books, The Obstacle is the Way (see below), is about boxer Rubin “Hurricane” Carter, who, in the mid-1960s and at the height of his career and fame, was charged with a crime he did not commit: triple homicide. The verdict: three life sentences.

Carter had entered prison with a $5,000 diamond ring, a gold watch, and a tailored suit. Now, waiting in line to be booked into the general population as an inmate, he asked to speak to someone in charge. “Looking the warden in the eye,” Ryan Holiday writes, “Carter proceeded to inform him and the guards that he was not giving up the last thing he controlled: himself.” Yes, he knew the guards were just doing their jobs, and this injustice was not their fault. And yes, he knew he would be there for some time. But he wanted to be clear: even though he was a prisoner, he would not be treated like one—because he wasn’t powerless.

Of course he was furious. Who wouldn’t be? His situation was grim, cruel, and unfair (to say the absolute least). But instead of giving into despair—something most people would have done—he poured his energy into getting out. He would not act like a prisoner just because he was in prison. He would not do what other inmates did. He would not attend parole hearings or work in the commissary to lighten his sentence.

No, every minute would be spent working towards his freedom. Every second would be for reading books—the law, philosophy, history. He refused to buy into the idea that they had ruined his life; they had just temporarily put him somewhere he didn’t want to be. He decided “he would leave prison not only a free and innocent man, but a better and improved one.” 

Nineteen years and two trials later, his verdict was overturned and he walked out of prison a free man. Did he file a lawsuit? Did he seek an apology? No and no. That would have implied that something had been taken from him, that someone owed him something. “That had never been his view, even in the dark depths of solitary confinement. He had made his choice: This can’t harm me—I might not have wanted it to happen, but I decide how it will affect me. No one else has the right.”

This can’t harm me. I decide how it will affect me.

To me, this is the essence of tranquility, the serenity prayer embodied. Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change and the courage to change the things I can…

Seneca said tranquility was the ultimate good for a human being. A tranquil person is not quick to anger. They have a clear head. They have a clear conscience. They take the right action. They are unruffled, undisturbed, unperturbed.

Further, a tranquil person will find the good in every situation. (Otherwise, they wouldn’t be tranquil.) And what more can be asked of us than to find the good in every situation, in every person?

Carter didn’t think, What if? Or Why me? Or They’ll all be sorry one day. Those thoughts would have upset his tranquility and clouded his judgment. By accepting his situation, he allowed room in his mind for better ideas to sprout, one of which bloomed into the foresight to begin a program of reading and studying, which would eventually lead to his freedom. And because his efforts were self-directed and in his control, each action propelled him forward and gave him the energy to endure.

I think of Socrates in jail in his final moments. When the prison guard brought him the glass of hemlock, Socrates apologized to him! He felt bad for his executioner, that he had such an unpleasant duty. Was Socrates afraid in his last moments? Maybe. Probably. Would it have mattered if he was? No, it wouldn’t have. He knew that fighting the inevitable was to hand over his tranquility, something no one would do on purpose.

Like Socrates, Carter had decided he would not “surrender the freedoms that were innately his: his attitude, his beliefs, his choices. . . . choices that could not be taken from him even though his physical freedom had been,” Ryan writes. “We don’t control the barriers or the people who put them there. But we control ourselves—and this is sufficient.”

—

Carter’s perseverance made me think of a story I recently read from the wonderful book Big Magic (my favorite book about creativity I read this year) by Elizabeth Gilbert. Distinguished writer Richard Ford was giving a talk at a bookstore in Washington, D.C., and it was time for Q&As. A middle-aged man stood up. He said he had a lot in common with Ford: they were about the same age, they started writing short stories and novels around the same time, they had similar backgrounds, and they wrote about similar themes. The only difference is that Ford was considered a man of letters, and he, the man in the audience, had yet to be published. He told Ford that all the rejection letters had crushed his spirit. “I wonder if you have any advice for me,”  the man said. “But please, sir, whatever you do, don’t tell me to persevere, because that’s the only thing people ever tell me to do, and hearing that only makes me feel worse.” 

Ford told the man he was sorry for his disappointments and that he couldn’t imagine what it was like to receive so many rejection letters. Then Ford said something to the man that made the audience freeze. He told him to quit. “I say this to you only because writing is clearly bringing you no pleasure. It is only bringing you pain. Our time on earth is short and should be enjoyed. You should leave this dream behind and go find something else to do with your life. Travel, take up new hobbies, spend time with your family and friends, relax. But don’t write anymore, because it’s obviously killing you.” 

The room went silent. Then Ford smiled and casually added, “However, I will say this. If you happen to discover, after a few years away from writing, that you have found nothing that takes its place in your life—nothing that fascinates you, or moves you, or inspires you to the same degree that writing once did . . . well, then, sir, I’m afraid you will have no choice but to persevere.”

Books Read This Month:

-As many of you know, Ryan Holiday’s The Obstacle is the Way: The Timeless Art of Turning Trials into Triumph has been one of the biggest influences on my life. I read it a handful of times between 2016 and 2017, and uncoincidentally, it was around that time that I made major changes. The main theme, like Carter’s story above, is that inherent in every obstacle is an opportunity. More than just remaining unharmed by obstacles, we can be improved by them. Do the next most necessary thing. No one can stop you from that. So when the 10th Anniversary Edition came out, I pre-ordered it and read it immediately. It’s wild how much I get from this book every time I read it. Seriously, if you read nothing else this year, read this. And if you’ve already read it, read it again!

-Another book of Ryan’s that I finished this month is The Daily Dad. I’ve had this book on my nightstand since last year, reading a few pages every other night or so before bed.It is SO good. I’m aware that giving parenting advice when I’m not a parent myself is ridiculous, but I’m going to give it anyway: if you’re a parent, you need to read this book. You really have to. It will be one of the best things you do. Even if you’re not a parent, read it. Because parenting—as my understanding goes—is mainly about being the best version of yourself for your kids. And this book is about how to be the best version of yourself. Here’s a timely part from the January 14th passage that I highlighted: “The world needs less judgment, less bullying, fewer opinions, period. Can you start this trend at home? Can you teach your kids what that looks like, instead of letting the same old rumor mill spin round and round, grinding their goodness to dust?”

–A Night to Remember by Walter Lord is a concise, suspenseful account of the sinking of the Titanic. What makes it the definitive book on the Titanic’s sinking is that Lord had access to many survivors, a privilege that no one else had or will have again. The book starts with lookout Frederick Fleet spotting the iceberg and advising the ship to turn away. From there, you get the play-by-play from multiple vantage points of its tragic sinking. Really good.

–The Barn: The Secret History of a Murder in Mississippi by Wright Thompson. Wow, I am ashamed that I didn’t know much about Emmett Till before reading this. In Mississippi in 1955, fourteen-year-old Emmett whistled at a white woman—and was mercilessly tortured and killed for it. It’s a gut-wrenching but necessary read. Emmett had been living with his mother, Mamie, in Chicago and he asked her if he could go to Mississippi to visit family. Mamie said no. She knew how dangerous it was for Black people in the South. But Emmett begged her, and she finally relented. You can go, she told him, but you have to be careful—it’s not like it is here in Chicago. Mamie worried as she watched her son board the train bound for Mississippi. She sent away her young, excited boy, and, as Thompson puts it, what she got back was a corpse. A grisly, unrecognizable corpse. What they did to Emmett was beyond words, and at the funeral, Mamie made the choice to keep the casket open. She wanted everyone to see what hatred looked like.

-It took me 3 weeks to read the 992-page 1992 biography of Harry Truman by David McCullough…and it was worth every hour spent. Not only did I learn so much about how the government works, I learned how the press works. How lies are picked up and spread. Like how McCarthy had accused Truman’s administration of communism—a wildly unfounded claim that deeply confused and angered Truman. McCarthy, of course, had no evidence, nor was any evidence ever produced (even after an internal investigation headed by McCarthy’s own party members). But he was adamant and loud, and so most of the country began to believe him because surely no one could be that loud about something that wasn’t true. In another instance, the unhinged General MacArthur (not to be confused with McCarthy) accused Truman of firing him for “telling the truth” about Truman’s administration, sparking public sympathy for MacArthur and fury at Truman. (History really does repeat itself.) It wasn’t until later that the public realized MacArthur was just an egomaniac. Anyway, what I love about Truman—and what made the book worth reading—was his character. He was honest, cheerful, buoyant, committed to world peace and his family, and worked harder than anyone around him. He pushed for things like better education, improved housing conditions, and livable wages. Unfortunately, his plans to improve the average person’s life were repeatedly blocked by the Republican-controlled Congress, which cared mostly for the rights of big businesses. Still, Truman was able to build millions of homes through government financing, double social security benefits, desegregate the armed forces, and increase the minimum wage (to name a few things. Not to mention the formation of NATO and the United Nations). Prices were higher, but “income had risen even more.” Unemployment was almost nonexistent. Dividends on farm and corporate income were at an all-time high. Income gains, education, and standard of living were “unparalleled in American history.” Just such a great biography about one of the greatest presidents we’ve ever had.

21 Ideas From Seneca That Have Made Me More Tranquil

Life, Philosophy / /

Courtney and I decided to do some gardening in our backyard this month. My mom came over to help. She taught us about tree suckers and Lantanas and directed us as we dug holes, mixed fertilizer into the soil, and laid cedar mulch. As I was pushing in a rod for the drip irrigation, Courtney told me to make sure I was putting it in straight.

“Oh yeah, I know, I am.”

“So the reason I said something was because I’m actively watching you not putting it in straight.”

It was hard work, but I enjoyed every minute of it. We talked and laughed and we were all together.

It reminded me of George Horace Lorimer’s Letters From a Self-Made Merchant To His Son, when John Graham, recounting the early days of his marriage, gives his son this advice:

“Your Ma did the cooking, and I hustled for things to cook. . . .  It was pretty rough sailing, you bet, but one way and another we managed to get a huge deal of satisfaction out of it, because we had made up our minds to take our fun as we went along. With most people happiness is something that is always just a day off. But I have made it a rule never to put off being happy till tomorrow. Don’t accept notes for happiness, because you’ll find that when they’re due they’re never paid, but just renewed for another thirty days.”

I just love that. Don’t accept notes for happiness.

It’s so easy to rush, to see the day as something to get through, to be anxious about what we still have to do, to think something’s lacking. It’s alarming how easy it is to remember to slow down and enjoy it. (On our fridge I wrote a reminder: Are you enjoying the day?)

When my time is up, when the next generation takes over, when the next family moves in with their own dreams and expectations and hopes and gardens, I want to be able to say, Have fun! I sure as hell did. I enjoyed my time here. I enjoyed the shit out of it.

Last month, I finished reading Seneca’s Letters on Ethics, which I’ve been making my way through since April. (See below!) He, of course, had a lot to say about enjoying life. He said that a tranquil mind is the ultimate good for a human being, the ultimate joy. And here’s the kicker: because tranquility is the ultimate good, any further delights are mere seasoning. Once you’ve satisfied hunger, eating more won’t make you more satisfied. What good is more water when your thirst is quenched?

But look at the hell we put ourselves through for what amounts to mere seasoning. We sacrifice time with the people we love, time doing the things we love for…what? The possibility of a slight enhancement? And usually, it’s not even that. Usually, it’s the complete opposite—a diminishment. A person will work a humdrum 9 to 5 to help pay their $600 car note. We stay up late watching TV and then are too tired to rise early and work on something we love. We TikTok without noticing the clock doing the same.

Tranquility. I’ve been thinking about this word nonstop. It’s beautiful. It’s our own inner source of strength and comfort. When everything around us is chaotic, it keeps us at peace. It’s light-hearted and cool-headed in adversity. It’s built on how we view things like happiness, virtue, anxiety, death, desire, and envy. And the best part is that tranquility is something you can have anywhere, anytime.

I found 21 ideas from Seneca’s Letters that have helped me to be more tranquil:

1. All virtue is equal; it can’t be measured in degrees. “Its magnitude is fixed”, it’s complete in itself. And because virtue is the foundation for happiness, happiness cannot be measured in degrees either. To think that you’re “less happy” than someone means you’re not happy at all. In fact, you have the ability to be as happy as the happiest person in the world at this very instant because the happiest person in the world has nothing in terms of goodness—the source of true happiness—that you can’t claim for yourself right now. In a prison or mansion, each moment contains an opportunity to practice a virtue, so each moment is an opportunity for total happiness. “If one is not happy [in every situation] one cannot have attained the highest good.”

2. “The happy life is just one life.” It’s an error to think that someone who lives longer and more far-reaching lives better. The measure of a life is based on its fullness. If you’re fulfilled, what does it matter how someone else is fulfilled? One eats less, the other more. What difference does it make? Both are filled.

3. Death can happen at any time—far into the future or in the next instant. So if we fear death, it follows that we would have to be in constant fear. Same with anxiety. Anything can happen at any moment. If you’re anxious about one thing, what’s stopping you from being anxious about everything else?

4. Do whatever you can to get rid of your vices, even if it means ripping your heart out.

5. The healthier we think our mind, the sicker it is.

6. Suffering is not a good thing. But courageously suffering what we must is a good thing. I used this idea on the treadmill the other day (and have used it since). My legs were in pain and I was out of breath and I still had more to run. I thought about how nice it would be to lie on the couch with a cold bottle of Powerade. But then I thought, wait, Powerade on the couch might sound pleasant but it’s not actually good. My body might feel better on the couch, but it won’t increase my tranquility. If anything, it will diminish my tranquility because I didn’t follow through on something important. At this moment, the ultimate good is to stay on the treadmill.

7. The most dangerous threats are inherently short-lived.

8. What good is it to have done something great but against your will? If you complained while doing it? This is how people tear themselves apart; the body goes one way, the mind another. Reluctance is a foolish way to do anything. Willingness is the key. We should approach each task on our toes, not our heels.

9. Feelings cannot exist in the past or future; therefore, pain cannot exist there either.

10. A person’s excellence is found only in what is unique to human beings: sound judgment. It’s what separates us from plants and animals. Dogs can be louder than us. Whales can make a more soothing sound. Our uniqueness lies in our ability to judge properly. Only by sharpening our reasoning can we hope to attain the excellence of a human being.

11. Don’t give your mind over to whoever or whatever happens to be in your vicinity. Whether it’s people or advertisements or something online, keep your mind on the highest things. Have a conversation in your head with a philosopher instead of Joe Schmo you find yourself next to.

12. If you wish to be richer, don’t add to your riches, lessen your desires. If you wish to be more honorable, don’t add to your honors, lessen your desires. If you wish to have more pleasure, don’t add to your pleasures, lessen your desires. If you wish to live a full life into old age, don’t add to your years, lessen your desires.

13. It’s no big deal to shun extravagance—what’s admirable is to shun even necessities. It’s one thing to have contempt for fancy meals. But what about contempt for bread and water, even when you’re hungry and thirsty? ‘But I’ll starve!’ It’s unlikely you’ll actually starve. What’s more likely is that by lacking contempt for your bodily urges, you’ll lose something more important than a meal: you’ll lose command over yourself.

14. It’s rare that a person fears what he should.

15. If all of your actions are directed toward the right things, there is no need to fear anything because everything you do is simply what needs doing. Like the ants who go about their day putting the world in order as best they can, you simply do what you were made to do. What could be scary about that? I used this idea the other day at work, and it boosted my confidence and helped me think on my toes. I was giving a presentation, and a small hint of anxiety started to warm my chest. I thought, oh my gosh, stop being silly and overthinking it. This is my job. It’s no different from eating and sleeping and driving and being myself—I’m just doing what I do. There’s nothing to think about.

16. This led me to another thought. If everything you do is simply what you do, then there’s nothing to calculate, no reason to hesitate. There’s no “being brave”, there’s just being yourself. ‘That was a really brave thing for her to do.’ No, that was a really her thing for her to do. That’s what she does. She moves from one necessary activity to the next and regards the outcome for each as irrelevant.

17. Until you know what to pursue and what to avoid, all your traveling is wandering.

18. Our lifetime is short, a mere blip, the length of a pinprick. There are no vast amounts of time in our lives; how can there be a vast amount of basically nothing? When we say something happened “just now,” that covers a fair portion of our lives, including the past, because our whole lives are so short. So we must be mindful of how we spend even “small” amounts of time—they account for much of our life!

19. Wisdom means always wanting the same things and always rejecting the same things.

20. Not wanting is the same as having; either way, anxiety is relieved.

21. Grateful is the best state of being. It is divine. At the end of my life, I hope to leave grateful and without complaint, as Marcus Aurelius said, “like an olive that ripens and falls. Praising its mother, thanking the tree it grew on.”

Books Read This Month:

–Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis is hilarious. The protagonist, George Babbitt, is caricature-like—an outsized image of the American businessperson. Lewis Sinclair is hilarious in the matter-of-factness he describes what makes his characters tick. Like how Babbitt—the ultimate conformist—is proud of his top-of-the-line alarm clock, happy to wake to such a quality piece of equipment. On paper, he has it all. A lucrative job, a loving family, a big house. Still, he dreams of mistresses and is easily annoyed by his wife and kids. He rides high on boisterous small talk and hearty back-pats with people in his community, only to be irritated moments later when an old lady cuts him off in traffic…only to forget all about it when he gets into his office. It made me think about the silly things we get worked up about. Things we won’t remember next week. Things we won’t even remember in the next hour! Why not save ourselves the trouble and just not get worked up in the first place? The other day, I couldn’t find a parking spot at work and I found myself getting annoyed. Then I thought, Really? You’re getting irritated about this? That’s how Babbitt would react. And I immediately smiled and felt grateful that I have a wonderful job and it’s such a beautiful day and I’m so incredibly lucky to be alive and experience it.

-As I mentioned above, I’ve been working through Letters on Ethics: To Lucilius (The Complete Works of Lucius Annaeus Seneca) by Seneca since April, and I finished it last month. It’s 124 letters Seneca wrote to his friend Lucilius on things like joy, gratitude, friendship, ambition, tranquility, how to cope with grief, how to think about death, how to spend your time wisely, what’s worth desiring, what’s worth avoiding. You wonder, how can a book contain so much wisdom? How can a person contain so much wisdom? Reading his letters is like having a conversation with him, and who wouldn’t want to converse with one of the wisest people to have lived? There’s a reason his works have endured through time and why people continue to turn to his writings for comfort and guidance.

–So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed by Jon Ronson is hilarious. And deep and eye-opening. It’s about, well, public shaming—why it’s a problem and its scary, hidden costs. It’s also superentertaining.

-Oh my goodness, I LOVED When I Stop Talking, You’ll Know I’m Dead by Jerry Weintraub and Rich Cohen. I learned so much about how business works and how deals are made. Weintraub shares how he went from an industry nobody to taking Elvis Presley on a national tour—completely changing the touring business model in the process. And that’s just the start. It’s one entertaining story after another from a guy who had all the top celebrities—Sinatra, Elvis—on speed dial. You realize as you read that it’s a masterclass in confidence, coming up with ideas on the fly, building relationships, and getting things done. And that persistence is even more important than intelligence and connections. Above all, enjoy it. At the age of 72, he reflects, “Savor life, don’t press too hard, don’t worry too much.”

–Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert. I LOVED this one too. I’m obsessed. I was hesitant to read it for some reason, but I’m so glad I did. It’s one of the best books on creativity and authenticity I’ve read. Gilbert says the creative life is the best life, how we have treasures buried within us and that hunting for those treasures and bringing them forth is the most fulfilling way to live. I also loved her humility in her personal stories. While working on her memoir Eat, Pray, Love, she asked her then-boyfriend if she could include him in it. “What’s at stake?” he asked. “Nothing,” she replied. “Trust me—nobody reads my books.” To the reader, she continues, “Over twelve million people ended up reading that book.” It’s funny and inspiring. I highly, highly, highly recommend it.

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