23 meditations that have helped me most (so far) in 2023

Whenever I read something I can’t stop thinking about or have an insight, I write it down.

Nothing crazy, just a sentence or two in a Google doc labeled “[Year] Insights”. It’s a way for me to remember what I’ve learned, so I can use what I’ve learned, and share it with others.

I had planned to narrow down the list and publish it in December, but it’s already grown considerably, in part due to the number of books I’ve managed to read so far this year:

So below are 23 meditations/ideas/insights I’ve been using in 2023:

1. The first rule for everything: don’t stress.

2. I’ve managed to more than double my reading this year by changing one thing: reading 2-3 books at a time instead of 1. If a book isn’t holding my attention, I’ll put it down and pick up a different one. Maybe I’ll come back to it in a week or a month when I’m in a different headspace. Maybe I won’t come back to it at all. The point is: I never want to let my lack of appetite for one book stop me from wolfing down another.

3. If you ask for feedback, you gain a critic. If you ask for advice, you gain a partner.

4. Kevin Kelly says that when you feel like stopping, give it 5 more minutes. What usually happens, he says, is that you hit your stride and end up exceeding the 5 minutes. I didn’t think much of this at first. But I gave it a try one day while running on my treadmill and it actually works.

5. Amelia Earhart said, “Move with your stick forward”. When I started this newsletter, I had no idea what I was doing. I still don’t. But life is short; you have to keep your foot on the gas and make adjustments as you go. If you wait until you have things figured out, you’ll never get anywhere. Move with your stick forward.

6. If what you’re doing isn’t worth your best, why are you doing it?

7. Pick up any good philosophy book and it probably talks about—indirectly or otherwise—the importance of living in a state of awe. Well, a cool thing I’ve learned is that you can be in awe of almost everything, not just sunsets and shooting stars. You can be in awe of how boring a speaker is. Or how long you’ve been on hold. You can be in awe of how many people sped up so you couldn’t merge. Or how long someone can talk about herself. In almost every situation, if you look for it, there is an opportunity for awe.

8. To meditate: focus on your breath. When you catch your attention wandering, bring it back to your breath. That’s all you need to know.

9. The religions and philosophies of the world aim to end suffering, not pain. Pain is part of life.

10. Sometimes I’ll catch myself procrastinating when it comes to doing something (relatively) easy. Actually, it’s because it’s easy that I feel like I can procrastinate: It’s just a half hour on the treadmill; it won’t make a difference if I skip today. I can make it up tomorrow. But when this reasoning pops into my head, I’ve been reminding myself of what Jim Rohn said: “What’s easy to do is just as easy not to do.” Then I hop on the treadmill.

11. When my parents’ cat, Quinn, passed away earlier this year, I was really sad. Her final week was gut-wrenching. But my dad reminded me that we can choose what we focus on. “We had sixteen great years with Quinn,” he said. “So we can think about the 1 week of sadness or the 16 years of happiness, you know? We can choose.” The 1 week of sadness or the 16 years of happiness. We can choose. Those words instantly calmed me, and they have calmed me since.

12. Creativity, like life, is about surrender, not force. It’s about listening. It’s about patience. “To listen impatiently,” Rick Rubin said, “is to hear nothing at all.”

13. A great way to waste your time: think about things that are not in your control.

14. Faith, by definition, cannot be argued. Even if it could be, we don’t know what we don’t know. We don’t even know if we have the capacity to know. I love how Montaigne put it: “We have formed a truth by the consultation and concurrence of our five senses, but perhaps we needed the agreement of eight or ten senses, and their contribution, to perceive it certainly and in its essence.”

15. Be suspicious of anyone who tries to turn you away from your faith. Don’t run from questions of faith—investigate them wholeheartedly. Even if it takes years or a lifetime, it’s a pursuit you will never regret. In fact, it’s probably one of the only pursuits you will never regret. The more you live in the spiritual world, and the less you live in the material one, the happier you will become.

16. Attention must be paid by the ounce. To work at peak capacity requires enormous effort. We can’t work at 100% all day. But we can work at 100% every day. That’s what professionals do—they show up every day and add another concentrated ounce to the bucket.

17. Breakthroughs are often hidden in hard work.

18. Don’t be a nerd. Nerds live inside boxes. Lunch is the same every day: a premade sandwich and a container of fruit. Work is statistical mathematics inside predictable software; variables are neatly accounted for. Their life is just as binary. The real world, with its complexity, shades of gray, nuance, chaos, and potential, is kept safely at bay. Fulfillment is traded for certainty. Don’t be a nerd.

19. Do things with a half-smile, especially chores. It makes a difference.

20. If you don’t know which book to read next, go with the one that sounds the most interesting.

21. To really experience life, don’t judge it. Just experience it. While listening to a song, don’t think about whether you like it, just listen. Experience it. You can always analyze it later, but experience it first.

22. Don’t be the best. Be the only.

23. It’s not how hard you work, it’s what you leave behind that counts.

Books Read This Month

Excellent Advice for Living by Kevin Kelly is one of the best books I’ve read this year. It’s wise and concise. (See the Quotes I’m Reflecting On section below.)

-Jeff Goins recommended Donald Miller’s memoir, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, so I thought I’d give it a try. I’m really happy I did. It’s another one of the best books I’ve read this year. His writing is deep and funny (kind of like David Sedaris but a little more soul-searchy). Using the lessons he learned while producing a movie about his life, he shows how the elements used to create a good story are not much different from the elements used to create a good life. He encourages us to “live a better story.” (It reminded me of one of my other favorite books on life and writing, Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird.) I enjoyed it so much that I ordered another book of his, Blue Like Jazz.

-I was in the mood for fiction so I picked up the award-winning book The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. I really, really enjoyed it. The overarching themes: What actually matters? What’s worth living for? What does it mean to live a good life?

The Book of Charlie: Wisdom from the Remarkable American Life of a 109-Year-Old Man by David Von Drehle is wonderful. What I loved most about Charlie was his absolute unwavering optimism. There was no misfortune he couldn’t find some good in. There was nothing he couldn’t use to his advantage. He shrugged off his mistakes—even big financial ones—as nothing more than the tax of life. To him, if you’re not making mistakes, you’re not really living, either. Or, as Harry Truman put it, “Imperfect action is better than perfect inaction.”

Write for Your Life by Anna Quindlen is a short, beautiful book on the importance of writing down your story.

Lessons From an American Stoic: How Emerson Can Change Your Life by Mark Matousek. Wow. Where do I start? This is also one of the best books I’ve read this year. I had kind of a revelation while reading about Emerson’s philosophy of Transcendentalism. “Transcendentalists sought a more direct relationship with God than was offered through stodgy church rituals,” writes Matousek. He describes Transcendentalism as a sort of spiritual rebellion against the hierarchical, sexist nature of certain churches. Transcendentalism “teaches that spiritual intermediaries are unnecessary for maintaining a close connection with God.” Wow. I finally have a name for something I’ve long felt but could not put into words, and I’m eager to learn more about it. I’m so grateful to have found and read this book.

If we can’t be present now, we can’t be present later

This month, Courtney and I drove from Phoenix to San Diego for a bridal shower and mini vacation. The drive is ~5 hours and relatively easy, minus the winding mountain roads during the final stretch (at which point you can just let your California native wife take over, and close your eyes as she whips the car around 90-degree turns, at elevations of 4,000 feet, believing any consideration of physics and its laws to be an excuse used by slow, bad drivers).

As usual on road trips, I was counting down the minutes until our arrival, excited about everything we would do. But as I sat behind the wheel, cruise control on, an open road ahead, listening to one of my favorite books with my wife, I wondered why I was in such a hurry to get there.

It’s something I never thought much about, it’s just what you do—get there as fast as possible. When you’re a kid you whine, are we there yet? When you’re an adult you already know you’re not there yet and you won’t be there for another 256 miles. Traveling is the inconvenient part of vacationing, the part you muscle through to get to where you want to be. 

But as Interstate 8 stretched on, I thought about what a great time I was having. Why am I rushing through a beautiful drive with my best friend? So I can get to the hotel sooner? So we can check in and head to the beach? So we can sit and enjoy each other’s company and do essentially the same thing we are already doing?

I realized I was already having the time of my life! What I wanted wasn’t over there, it was right here, just waiting for me to notice.

It struck me how absurd it was to think I could be present at the beach when I couldn’t even be present in the car. It reminded me…

If We Can’t Live In This Moment, We Can’t Live In Any Moment
When Thich Nhat Hanh would have friends over for dinner, he had a routine of washing the dishes afterward before sitting down to drink tea with everyone. One evening, his friend Jim Forest asked if he may wash the dishes. Go ahead, Thich replied, just remember there are 2 ways to wash the dishes: “The first is to wash the dishes in order to have clean dishes and the second is to wash the dishes in order to wash the dishes.” If we’re washing the dishes to get to the tea, we aren’t really washing the dishes. The rest of Thich Nhat Hanh’s assertion is worth quoting in full:

“What’s more, we are not alive during the time we are washing the dishes. In fact, we are completely incapable of realizing the miracle of life while standing at the sink. If we can’t wash the dishes, then chances are we won’t be able to drink our tea either. While drinking the cup of tea, we will only be thinking of other things, barely aware of the cup in our hands. Thus we are sucked away into the future—and we are incapable of actually living one minute of life.”

You’re Exactly Where You’re Supposed to Be. Enjoy It
In Ethan Hawke’s beautiful book Rules for a Knight the protagonist, Sir Thomas Lemuel Hawke, recounts a time in his childhood when he went to see his grandfather to ask him for advice about how to live his life. His grandfather welcomed him warmly, happy to share his wisdom. The boy congratulated himself for coming, saying, “I knew I’d come to the right place.” His grandfather looked at him and said, “I’m glad you’ve come, Thomas. I’ve been hoping you’d show your face at my door for a long time, and I will happily accept you as my squire, if that’s what you want. But the first thing you must understand is that you need not have gone anywhere. You are always in the right place at exactly the right time, and you always have been.” He then paused and asked the boy, “Do you know why King Arthur’s knights could not see the mountain peak of Sea Fell?” Thomas said he did not. “Because,” his grandfather smiled, “that’s where they were standing.”

Books Read This Month

The Consolations of Philosophy by Alain De Botton is amazing. Each chapter comprises 2 things: a common, specific problem and a posthumous philosopher with the best solutions for it. From how Socrates dealt with unpopularity (and why it’s sometimes a good thing to be unpopular), to how Montaigne overcame his perceived inadequacies, it gives an abundance of excellent advice. It’s one of the best books I’ve read this year. I read You Are a Writer (So Start Acting Like One) and Real Artists Don’t Starve by Jeff Goins. I added both to my list of favorite books on writing and creativity, and both helped me understand that as much as art needs business, business needs art, and to not sell yourself short. I read Lord of the Flies by William Golding for the first time which was, of course, great. We listened to one of my favorite books, The Obstacle is the Way, by Ryan Holiday on our road trip. I read Ethan Hawke’s wonderful, philosophical gem Rules for a Knight and I loved it. I also read James Romm’s Dying Every Day, an awesome biography of Seneca during his time as an advisor to the unhinged Nero. It’s a great mix of drama, history, and philosophy.

What we don’t know

A man arrives at work one day and instead of walking through the main entrance, he goes around back. As another person enters through the back door, the man rushes to catch it before it can close and lock. Once inside, his coworker says to him, “The boss wants to see you.” Without looking up, the man mutters a barely audible, “Yeah, I want to see him too.” In the locker room, he sets down his gym bag—a bag far too large for just clothing—and pulls out a pistol and a handgun. He conceals both under his coat. Then, he goes to look for his boss.

Based on what you know so far, context would assist you if you had to predict what this man would do next. But, as Gavin de Becker points out in The Gift of Fear, (a super fun and engaging read, by the way!) just one small piece of information changes the context of this story: the man is a police officer. Your prediction would likely be different if he was a postal worker. 

The greatest enemy of perception—and therefore, accurate predictions—he says, is judgment. 

And it’s so easy to judge what we think we know. But a theme that keeps coming up in my reading is that we don’t know much of, well, anything.

What if we were more honest with ourselves and others about what we don’t know? If wisdom begins in humility, then it’s more than okay that we don’t know. In fact, it’s the best place to start…

Compassionate Assumption
People can frustrate us. And sometimes when they do, we make harmful judgments about them (the worst of those judgments being that they did something to us). My daughter is purposely trying to make my life miserable. The guy who cut me off is a jerk. My spouse is incapable of understanding why I’m upset. But what if, as Ryan Holiday said in last week’s Daily Stoic email, we fought to defend their side instead of attack it? What if, instead of working to produce evidence against someone, we worked to produce evidence for them? We could follow Seneca’s advice and play the role of public defender, and “plead the case of the absent defendant despite our own interests.” Maybe my daughter is acting out as a way of asking for help. Maybe that guy is having a bad day. Maybe I’m not communicating with enough love toward my spouse. Because we don’t ever really know what someone is going through, do we? Even the people closest to us struggle with things we’ll never know about, let alone comprehend. In any case, we can default to compassionate assumption. If nothing else, it will make us calmer and happier.

What If Five Senses Aren’t Enough?
The sixteenth-century writer and philosopher Montaigne was famous for his skepticism of knowledge. He worked for the court of inquiry and, when a civil case was too complex for a quick verdict by the judge, was tasked with summarizing the evidence for both sides, without passing judgment. Dubbed the king of uncertainty, he knew all evidence was error-prone, and therefore so were decisions based on it. Judges and lawyers were fallible too, and to be doubted. Even the laws themselves were to be questioned because they were made by humans. Perhaps it was this court work that made him skeptical of things, himself included. He vigorously investigated the nuanced, opposing impulses of his soul, but he never took himself too seriously. (He would laugh at his own contradictions and silliness.) Much of his writings end with phrases such as “though I don’t know,” which, Sarah Bakewell writes in How To Live, is pure Montaigne. Basically, he believed that all knowledge should be doubted because it resides in human beings. “We have formed a truth by the consultation and concurrence of our five senses,” he said, “but perhaps we needed the agreement of eight or ten senses, and their contribution, to perceive it certainly and in its essence.” 

Doubt As a Case For Faith
The philosopher Descartes said, “Everything I perceive clearly and distinctly cannot fail to be true.” But, as Montaigne would have pointed out, we can’t possibly know whether we are capable of seeing things clearly, let alone be sure that we do. I think about this a lot when it comes to religious faith. In David Brook’s wonderful book The Second Mountain, he points out that even the most religious people have regular doubts about their faith. Mother Theresa did. Brooks says he still does. But, he argues, faith is strengthened, not destroyed, by doubts. Montaigne likely would have agreed, as Sarah Bakewell writes that he “denied that humans could attain knowledge of religious truths except through faith. Montaigne may not have felt a great desire for faith, but he did feel a strong aversion to all human pretension—and the result was the same.”

Books Read This Month

I read The Road to Character by David Brooks and it was amazing. He tells the stories of people like Dorothy Day, George C. Marshall, A. Phillip Randolph, and Augustine, and the ongoing inner battles they fought to live a life of meaning and purpose. Reading their stories helped me to better understand what it means to live life to its fullest. I can’t recommend this book enough. I read and enjoyed Admiral James Stavridis’s To Risk It All: Nine Conflicts and the Crucible of Decision. He combines his 30-plus years of experience in the US Navy with 9 crucial moments in the Navy’s history, to help answer this question: How do great decision-makers make their decisions? And because it’s a collection of 9 different stories, the pages flew by. I also read a hidden gem I found in a used bookstore: an old copy of Ray Bradbury’s Zen in the Art of Writing, which I loved so much that I bought and read Fahrenheit 451 which was so good that I added it to my list of favorite books. (I’m sad to say it was my first reading of Fahrenheit; I was book-averse when it was assigned in high school.) I was surprised that it touched on so many of my favorite themes: slowing down, being still, dancing in the rain and taking walks and being present and doing things for no reason other than to do them. Just a great book. Finally, I read The Bed of Procrustes: Philosophical and Practical Aphorisms by Nassim Nicholas Taleb, and oh my gosh, I had so much fun reading it; I wrote exclamation marks on nearly every other page. It’s a book about what we don’t know and how we handle what we don’t know. And I found a lot of cool ideas to potentially use in my own writing.

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