Month: June 2023

The other day, I accidentally cut myself while chopping tomatoes. It hadn’t happened in a long time, and the prime suspect was the different knife I was using. If you’re used to a five-inch blade and then start slicing with a seven-inch one, there’s more room for error.

“Argh. Dammit. That’s what happens when you use tools you’re not used to!” I said. But after I ran my finger under cold water for a bit and put on a band-aid, I resumed cutting and finished the job.

It’s easy to fall into the habit of avoiding a tool after it lets us down. But ultimately, it’s never the tool, is it? It’s us. The tool may be less than perfect, but we’re the ones who failed in using it correctly. A tool is just a tool, and being afraid of a knife won’t make you less likely to cut yourself. If anything, you’ll pressure yourself so much to be careful, you’ll slip up because you’re nervous.

Don’t be afraid of tools. Computers and scissors have no feelings about you — and if you want the two of you to work well together, you’ll do the same for them.

“Uh-oh.” After I had started my meditation timer, I realized sitting cross-legged wasn’t ideal. I had already spent a good amount of time in that position, and my legs and knees felt uncomfortable.

At first, I was tempted to change position. Sometimes, I do sit with my legs extended straight or put my hands on my hips instead of folding them in my lap. But then I realized: That’s also what meditation is about. It’s not just the relaxing kind of letting go that matters. Accepting pain is important too.

“Can you endure 15 minutes of sitting in a not-so-comfortable position? I think you can,” I told myself. And endure is what I did.

The world has become a place where, for every hint of suffering, a band-aid is easily available. But just because you patch it up immediately does not mean that, underneath the thin layer of protection, your wound isn’t still bleeding. You can distract yourself from your loneliness with Instagram, but that won’t make your loneliness go away.

Sitting in silence for 15 minutes, however, will show you that being lonely isn’t so bad. It’s survivable, just like accidentally cutting yourself while cooking, being single in your 30s, or making a big mistake at work.

Don’t run for the hills when you feel a pang of disappointment, back pain, or jealousy. Sit with it. In it. Turn 5 seconds of pain into 15 minutes of endurance, and the next time the world will try to shake you, you’ll remain firmly in your saddle, riding on through the desert as if the sand storm is nothing more than a breeze.

At the beginning of our latest mastermind meeting, a friend and I grilled our third member about his trip to Japan. He mentioned that while Tokyo was one of the cleanest places he’d ever visited, he found it annoying — and ironic — that there were almost no trash cans anywhere. We made a joke that perhaps in Tokyo, it is called “trash can’t,” and that’s why you end up lugging around your litter.

As part of the actual session, where we help each other solve problems in our businesses, one friend said he struggled to find the time to start his e-commerce podcast. I suggested he make the task seem less daunting. “Make it smaller. Easier. How can you do it in 15, 20, 30 minutes a day? That still adds up meaningfully over time.” Our recent Japan-returnee threw in a great question from Tim Ferriss: “What would this look like if it were easy?” As it turns out, it’s a question Ferriss originally applied to his podcast too, and shortly after the end of the session, our friend had a template he could use to get cracking.

That night, I returned home from work, and when I looked at the massive pile of cardboard waste in our living room, which my girlfriend and I had postponed cleaning up after assembling the bed that had emerged from it, lightning struck: “What would this look like if it were easy? Well, I’d just take it all to the trash room one piece at a time.” I carried away the first piece then, another the next morning, and when I again returned from work, I felt so motivated, I took care of all the rest. I guess it’s called trash “can” after all.

Ferriss’ focusing question is great for many reasons, and it often ends up giving you a familiar-feeling answer: If you can’t put in a big effort, put in a small one, and wait for it to add up — because it will, in the long run, always add up. Sometimes, the run isn’t all that long, and on day three, you’ll clean up an entire pile of trash. At other times, the run will take years until your podcast takes off. But it’s the fact that you keep running that matters.

Whether in Tokyo or in LA, don’t litter — and don’t let big piles of work keep you from carrying away small tasks.

“Should I shave this morning? Or tonight? What about tomorrow before the drive home? Will I work from home? What if not?” You’d be surprised how much time someone can waste in front of a mirror.

Actually, I think you know perfectly well. You do it too. Not about shaving, perhaps, but between the right level of makeup, how to do your hair, and whether to pop that pimple or not, there’s no shortage of topics for self-debate, is there?

With my inner argument still in full swing, a single image came to mind: Me, sitting in my chair at WeWork, scratching my beard and being annoyed, wishing I’d shaved it earlier. And just like that, a decision was made.

We don’t always get these glimpses into the future right when we need them, but we can always ask ourselves: “Has this task reached the appropriate level of urgency to just do it now?” Where is your tolerance for leaving the dishes, the skin treatment, or the report undone? Can you stretch it another day? Or have you had enough?

My beard was already itchy this morning. It would only have gotten worse from there. So despite already leaving the house late, I took an extra ten minutes, and now my skin is fresh and scratch-free.

You won’t always be able to knock yourself out of your own head back into reality, but maybe next time, you’ll remember this rule of thumb: Shave when itchy, clean when dirty, replace when smelly.

Your life force is too precious to waste on recurring minutia. Don’t let a scratchy beard keep you from pursuing your dreams.

When I moved to Munich for the first time in 2014, I had no internet for three months. As an intern, there to get to know the city, it was a good incentive to go out and explore, but it was also a major hassle. Back then, I had an iPhone 5S with 1 or 2 GB of data each month. The joys of browsing and relying on Google Maps always quickly came to an end, and then back to the coffee shop I had to go.

When I moved again within Munich ten years later, it was a different story. My internet setup appointment was delayed by 10 days, but it didn’t feel like I was missing anything. I brought my laptop, turned on the hotspot on my iPhone 11, and back to work I went as usual. My current plan has 10 GB of data, and for an extra 15 bucks, I can extend that with another 10 GB several times — and that’s in Germany, where data is expensive.

We always complain that everything becomes more expensive. Partially, price rises come from inflation, and that part really sucks — because we don’t gain anything from it. Our money loses its value because of other economic factors, and that’s a trend we must fight even though we didn’t cause it. But things also become more expensive because they get better, and that’s something we rarely acknowledge.

The car I learned to drive in had no GPS, no cruise control, very basic safety measures, and not even a beeper for when you park it. That was a BMW. Nowadays, every tiny Kia, Hyundai, and Fiat comes with these things and then some. Cars are probably 100x safer than they were 20 years ago on average, and that, too, is something we must pay for — and in this case, we should be glad we get to do it.

The first few times I moved after leaving the nest of home, the event put a grinding halt to all of my day-to-day activities. Now, I can plop down in an empty flat with no furniture, get a rental car on demand to move my stuff, order groceries to be delivered and stock the fridge, buy some pots and pans for next-day delivery, and then get back to work — which is exactly what I did. In theory, I could even have done all of this on my phone. It’s crazy how frictionless the process can be with modern tools.

The next time you’re annoyed the price went up, think about what it represents: Is it really just greed? Was it done out of necessity? Did the people making the thing have higher costs in making it? And, most importantly, has the thing become better since you last bought it? No one uses all the features on their phone, but everyone loves faster loading times, bigger batteries, and better cybersecurity.

Paying more isn’t optional, but benefiting more often is. Think before you complain, and remember: What you pay for is what you get — and what you get can be a good surprise as much as a bad one.

It was late. The post I was working on was massive. Eventually, it would add up to 10,000 words. I really wanted to finish it that day, but the finishing touches took longer than expected. I thought about calling it quits for the day, and with a big sigh, I slumped back in my chair and looked up.

Throughout the week, I had been watching The Last Dance, a docu-series retelling Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls’ rise to fame. I’v rarely seen TV this inspiring, and so between running my first 5k in three years, working a lot, and organizing everything for my upcoming move, the show had already given me plenty of fuel, but on that particular night, I was about to run out.

As I threw my head back, however, there it was: Staring back at me from the concrete, industrial-design ceiling of our co-working space, right above my seat, scribbled in pencil was the number 23. Guess who’s number that was? Who donned the 23 on his jersey through high and low, from seven years of slow NBA grind full of near-misses all the way to six championships and the legacy of being the greatest basketball player to ever set foot on the court? Michael Jordan.

Needless to say, I finished the post. Everything in life can be chalked up to coincidence, but sometimes, the universe hands you a gift too generous to not at least pretend the air of destiny surrounds it. Keep looking for those gifts. Never stop believing in make-believe, and hope will always be around the corner.

They might not have raised them as lovingly as your parents did. Perhaps their father left before they were born or their mother died when they were young — but they have parents nonetheless, and those parents, present or absent, will be a shaping force in their lives.

Everyone has enemies. Most likely not mortal ones trying to hunt them down wherever they go, but enemies regardless. No one gets along well with everyone. There’s always someone who stands to gain something from your loss, and the shadow of that potential loss looms over all of us.

Everyone has someone they love. A friend. A partner. A teacher. It might even be a dog or anime character, but everyone has someone they don’t want to lose. Someone who gives them hope when no one else can, and who brings out the very best in them.

Everyone has a tribe. A destination. A group of people they will call “home” when they finally find them. If they find them. Not everyone reaches their tribe. Not everyone spreads the word after they arrive. But somewhere, there’s a tribe out there waiting. For me. For you. For anyone.

We are humans. From humans we come. With humans we are. And to humans we must go. Past, present, future — all spinning an endlessly forward-twisting double helix. The arrow of time is cut from DNA, and we’re all made from the same cloth. Let’s remember that cloth so we can look into each other’s eyes as we fly past one another and search for the distant but familiar light that binds us together.

Less than a month into its theatrical release, the Super Mario Bros. movie is on track to make a whopping $1 billion at the box office, a feat only 51 films have ever accomplished. More than 40 years after Shigeru Miyamoto first conceived the jump-and-running Italian plumber with his trademark red hat, Nintendo, Universal, and animation studio Illumination finally brought him and his many friends and foes to the big screen.

The only question is: Why did it take them four decades to do so? Disney and Pixar have been making chart-topping animated movies since the mid-90s, and movies attached to existing intellectual property have made up a large share of top grossers for 20 years.

While I’m sure there’s a long and complicated answer, the short one is that Nintendo does not half-ass things. If they do something, they do it wholeheartedly, whether it’s venturing into the legal maze that was acquiring the rights for Tetris for the GameBoy, going into motion-based gaming with the Wii when everyone else was gunning for higher-quality graphics, or, well, turning its most beloved franchise into an animated movie.

When you’re producing a movie you know millions of people will go to see, if only for the nostalgia factor or because their kids drag them into it, it’s easy to let it slide. After all, no matter how bad it’s going to be, the fans will show up. But if you do, those fans might not be there for the sequel, and so Nintendo always chooses the opposite direction: “Millions of people will see this. Let’s not mess this up.“

Everything had to be right. The production quality. The cast. The music. The sound of the voices. The jokes. The plot. The easter eggs. That’s why, unlike many other video game franchises, like Resident Evil, Tomb Raider, or Mortal Kombat, who offer no lack of often bad movie adaptations, the Mario gang had to wait. And wait. And then wait some more.

Even after greenlighting the film project, it would take another ten years for it to eventually be released — but if you asked anyone involved with the movie today whether the wait was worth it, I’m sure they’d all give you the same answer: “Yes! Sometimes, you just have to take your time to get things right, and that’s what we did.”

Sometimes, waiting is a mistake. Often, it is the smart thing to do. Every now and then, however, it is neither wrong nor clever but necessary — because going slowly and doing things right is the only way to do them at all. Why wait? Because when we deserve your best, doing anything less won’t let you sleep peacefully at night. We, too, are better off with your brightest performance — and for that, we’ll all gladly wait.

No matter how stressful or dire life gets, there’s always a joke hiding just around the corner. In Germany, we often speak of gallows humor, a weird kind of grit-your-teeth-and-bear-it-with-a-grin nonchalance. It is reserved for moments where you’re not supposed to laugh, but where it it will, oddly, still make things better.

A friend’s long-distance boyfriend has been ghosting her for two weeks. Now, every time I see her and there’s still no update, she just shrugs and says, “I know, right? What. The. Fuck.” before she starts laughing. When I catch myself meticulously scrubbing the kitchen counter for the 17th time just to procrastinate on unpacking the 157th box since moving, I’ll just laugh and ask, “What the hell am I even doing?”

Not every situation warrants a joke, but they all sure offer one if you’re willing to dig for it. Most of the time, digging is worth it. The joke doesn’t have to be deep or clever or good enough to be a meme. All it has to do is help you move on with your day.

Life is better when we laugh. Where’s the joke? Find it, and even a rock bottom day might offer some sunshine after the rain.

The early Stoic Epictetus was born into slavery in Greece around AD 50. He regained his freedom at 18, but the only pleasure until then was that his wealthy master allowed him to study philosophy under Musonius Rufus, a famous Stoic.

Having lived with little by necessity for so long, Epictetus maintained a simple lifestyle after his release, and his thoughts about desire became a major part of his message, a message we still remember today. “Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants,” Epictetus said. Can you leave it alone? If so, you are rich, for you need not even concern yourself with whatever “it” is.

“Freedom isn’t secured by filling up on your heart’s desire but by removing your desire,” Epictetus’ student Arrian wrote in Discourses, a collection of notes on Epictetus’ informal lectures. The more you can accept the large parts of life you will never visit, see, or experience, the happier you’ll be, Epictetus believed. I’m a 32-year-old man with the knees of a 67-year-old retiree. Never say never, but if I die without ever clipping a snowboard to my feet, I’ll be okay.

In the Enchiridion, literally a “handbook” Arrian compiled from Discourses, Epictetus succinct advice on desire goes as follows: “Desire, suspend it completely for now. Because if you desire something outside your control, you are bound to be disappointed; and even things we do control, which under other circumstances would be deserving of our desire, are not yet within our power to attain. Restrict yourself to choice and refusal; and exercise them carefully, within discipline and detachment.”

Don’t crave what you can’t attain but only be given, and don’t resent what you should be able to attain but can’t. Choose to stay fully in the realm of what you hold sway over, no matter how tiny it may be. Desire only to be free of desire, and you will find a store of wealth that often eludes even the richest: the inner peace that flows from the fountain of “enough.”