I recently came across the book of No, by Tim Ferriss. The book is yet to be released but the third chapter was recently disclosed, and it’s all about writing a “preservation manifesto”. A default reply to highlight all the things we won’t do.

“What would I write there”? I said to myself. And I started thinking about the “non-negotiables”. The things I would not compromise on. 

I thought about it and realized that some of those were actually negotiable. “Why”? I was wondering.

Why something so deep, so important, so meaningful, can be negotiable for me. How’s that even possible?

I was then reminded of the video from Clayton Christensen about holding 100% of the time onto our principles. As it often happens in life I realized I’m not doing that. We compromise. Sometimes we do accept compromise because of fears that exist only in our heads.

This, to me, is a strong reminder not only of the importance of saying no, but also the importance of protecting the things you value in life and the time you spend with the people you love.

We think of goals as if they are easy descriptions, something we can attach to a post-it on our wall, a simple label.

I realized that sometimes we confuse goals and outcomes, and I realized this, as it often happens, through the learnings of being a dad.

As a parent, I’d love my child to tidy up her room, and sometimes I get angry because she doesn’t do that.
But that is the outcome, not the goal. The outcome is a clean and tidy room. The goal is to learn the independence to tidy up the room, to learn where each piece should go, and to sustain the boring task of putting them in their own place.

To get that outcome, there is a lot to learn, plenty of messy rooms in between. But the goal is not the tidy room. 

It is indeed easy to desire the outcome, the fancy status, the beautiful home, but it’s the underlying goal (learning to fish, so you don’t go hungry, learning to sail, so you can navigate the world) that makes the difference. 

I’m going through the Waking Up course from Sam Harris for the first time and today (day 9) there was a message about “the last time”. 

After each meditation Sam Harris adds an extra topic that you can listen separately, and today’s topic was around last time.

When is the last time you’ll do something?
At first this seems obvious: When I’ll die.
But that is not the truth. He made the perfect example of why life is unexpected and unpredictable.
In his example he shared that it’s been almost 10 years since he didn’t went skiing. Will he ski again? Maybe, but 10 years ago, when he went to ski, he wasn’t aware that that would’ve been a possible “last time” for that action.

We’re surrounded by things we won’t see again. People, stories, small actions from our children and friends.
Life will take us to unknown places and we won’t know when it’s our last time for something.

Couple of months ago I came across this post on death and remembering but also, more importantly, on life.

It’s one of the most emotional readings I’ve had in quite a while.
But what I discovered after reading it is the concept of “continuers” and “dividers”, which is highlighted in this other post.

The, going down the rabbit hole, in the first post there’s this notion that the same neural machinery that’s used for remembering the past may also be crucial for predicting the future.

Now, if you go through these 3 posts, you might, or might not, see a connection. I see it, for myself. I see this as one of the most well painted descriptions of how I perceive life. Of the flow of time and life in my day to day.

The concept that some people have this sense of direction through their days and lives, while others don’t. This concept that some people remember (and re-live) the past differently, the concept (not highlighted there, but clear for me) of aphantasia, all tie together to paint a picture of life. An image of what life can be, in what ways it can be lived and imagined.

I was recently reading Wild Geese, from Mary Oliver and I thought that the passage “Tell me about despair” had a lot in common with another thing I’m reading: “Bird by bird”.

In the book, the author shares how it’s useful to talk about our darkness, because that darkness is interesting; that is what differentiates us from the rest.
Sharing those stories, also, is a way to let other people talk about that same despair, just like in the Wild Geese poem.

It’s difficult, though. Sharing our darkest moments, the worries, and the fears. We’re constantly battling with the concept that we should show a perfect image of ourselves, protect that image so that others won’t reject us, and hide reality from plain sight because, afterall, we’re not sure if society will accept us.

Or, maybe, we fear that darkness will be too difficult to handle.

I don’t think so. I think sharing that despair is a path to creating new connections and making our relationships stronger. 
Of course, timing is everything. You can’t just walk up to someone and talk about it. You need the right moment, but once you find it, it’s worth it.