This post is the first among my Short & Simple category—short realizations I’m come to almost always while journaling my own problems.
Rarely in life is force a necessity. Most executions of force eventually backfire.
Force within a relationship strains trust.
Force in the body often leads to injury.
Force within the mind saps the spirit of self-compassion.
What is the alternative remedy? A dismantling of the motivations for what was deemed necessary force. Assessing the reasoning for the failure of an intended outcome should always take precedence over force.
Why isn’t this relationship going the way you want it to? Maybe it’s not supposed to happen in the way you want. Maybe there is a lack of trust somewhere that needs to be addressed.
Why am I not losing weight or becoming free of a current ailment?
Maybe your force in this scenario is not in alignment with the long-term health and systemic balance within your body.
Why can’t I focus on the things that matter most in life enough to make time for them? Maybe your default modes of how you spend time have strayed from their optimal positions to sub-optimal behaviors with frictionless gratification.
Forcing any of these will rarely result in anything more than mental, social, or physical hemorrhoids.
If you were to ask me which skill I’ve developed in the past five years that has been the most beneficial to my daily life, I’d likely interrupt you.
“What would is the most useful skill you’ve developed in the past five—”
“—meditation. Definitely meditation.”
And it’s true. Mindfulness meditation, more than any other technique, coping mechanism, or practice has helped me manage the fidget spinner in my mind. As someone diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder and treated (aka heavily medicated with powerful narcotics), I believe that Mindfulness Meditation should be utilized as a treatment for the symptoms of ADHD. Other studies have revealed that Mindfulness Meditation has been proven effective in treating anxiety, heart disease, depression, insomnia, and even reducing the symptoms of irritable bowel syndrome, chronic pain, and psoriasis. Whoa, that’s pretty compelling.
For all of its benefits, there is one aspect of Mindfulness Meditation that I didn’t initially care for—it perpetually reveals just how scattered my focus truly is.
Before I started a regular a Mindfulness Meditation practice, I was comfortably oblivious to my mind’s erratic nature. While I would grow frustrated when my focus was derailed by a fleeting thought or an external distraction, I just thought I needed to slap myself in the face, sharpen my gaze on the task at hand, and white-knuckle my attention into its proper place. This method was not only exhausting but also ineffective.
My first couple of moments of Mindfulness Meditation revealed what the heck was happening in my mind. I would sit silently, attempting to aim my focus at the raw sensation of my breath entering and exiting my nostrils. As my attention arrived at the present moment alone, a pleasant coziness settled into my mind and body. I was surprised by how delightful this sensation of absolute presentness could feel. Just as I started to think about how pleasant the feeling was, WHAM!!—like a 1960’s Batman jab, a random thought delivered a gut-punch to my serenity. Before I knew it, more thoughts began to roll in like aggressive waves at the beach. Soon, I was stuck in a mental riptide.
“DID I TAKE THE TRASH CAN TO THE CURB?”
“MY CAR NEEDS GAS. I MEAN, I GUESS I COULD GO TO THE STORE, BUT NOT MY PARENTS’ HOUSE IN…”
“THESE PANTS FIT ME A LITTLE BIT FUNNY. BUT RETURNING THEM WOULD MEAN…”
“DO I GET ON MY BOSS’ NERVES, BUT THEY’RE TOO NICE TO TELL ME? I MEAN, THAT ‘LOL’ WAS DEFINITELY NOT GENUINE…”
These thoughts are completely normal for any meditator to experience—even among the most experienced in the world. Actually, one of the most critical exercises in Mindfulness Meditation is becoming “mindful” of these thoughts as their own entities without allowing them to hijack your focus.
Some meditation teachers instruct their students to treat their thoughts like leaves floating on a stream, letting them float on by without judgment. Others will say to observe them like clouds in the sky, watching them come and go.
I prefer to look at them like clothes on hangers to move to get to the back of my closet. Sure, I can take them off of the rack to observe them, but I don’t need to put them on in order to sort through them to get to the back of my closet. In the same way, practicing the art of not putting on/engaging with my thoughts helps me see them not as reality but as thoughts hanging on my mind’s clothing rack that I can slide through while leaving them on their hangers. Never before had I ever been able to encounter my thoughts without “putting them on.” For someone with ADHD, being able to do this without medication feels like a superpower.
So, what’s the problem? Well, now I realize just how unruly my mind is.
I remember letting my mind wander untethered while I was taking a shower. Though I was able to take a shower on autopilot, my thoughts jumped from my family to work to personal fitness to time management to everything in between. As I stepped out of the shower and toweled off, seeing my reflection in the mirror stomped the brakes on the runaway train of my mind and brought it back into the present. Staring myself down with water dripping from my face into the bathroom sink, I couldn’t help but think, “wow, your mind is still a pinball machine, isn’t it?” At that moment, I felt like a doctor had just handed me a diagnosis—” yep, your mind is still all over the place.”
I’m still not sure what is worse—having a pinball machine for a mind and being gleefully ignorant of it or realizing the mayhem upstairs and being too hard on yourself for it. Then again, thanks to Mindfulness Meditation, I now know that being hard on myself for having such a scattered mind is, itself, a thought that I have taken off its hanger and put on. Realizing that, I can allow myself to take it off and observe it from an objective perspective.
So, if I were armed with a time machine and what I know about mindfulness, would I go back in time and prevent myself from learning about my own mind—thus limiting my own self-judgemental nature? I’ll admit, I didn’t immediately know the answer to this.
Being gleefully ignorant of one’s own shortcomings can be quite lovely—like enjoying a party, completely unaware of the toilet paper stuck to your shoe. However, I believe that I wouldn’t change a thing. I would prefer to understand the nature of my mind so I can work to flex my mental muscles of objective, non-judgemental analysis.
Whether knowing that my mind’s default mode is “scattered” or that I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe, I’d rather know such things so I can pull the toilet paper off of my shoe before I get back to the party.
One of the reasons why most lifestyle enhancement plans and products fail is that they were not designed with you in mind. These influencers and plan developers don’t know you. They have no clue about what lifestyle changes would be sustainable for you. They don’t know what activities you hate doing and which you enjoy. But do you know who does know? You do, that’s who!
What do you enjoy doing?
To design a growth-oriented lifestyle tailored to your specifications, the process itself must be enjoyable—or at the least, potentially enjoyable.
Step 1. Jot Down What You Like to Do
Bring to mind all of the things you currently enjoy doing as well as the activities you once enjoyed—regardless of their positive or negative implications. Physically jotting these down on a piece of paper or typing them into a document may prove to be helpful.
Step 2. Strikethrough the Destructive Habits
Recall or look through these activities and strikethrough all of the activities that are bad for you. These can range from unhealthy habits like smoking or excessive drinking to compulsive social media checking, maintaining toxic relationships, and the like.
Step 3. Highlight the Activities That Are Good For You
Regardless of how unhealthy your favorite activities are, there are likely a few that aren’t bad for you. Heck, some may even be good for you. There are probably even some that are extremely good for you that you haven’t thought about in decades. Even still, there are likely some activities you enjoy that share an unlikely component with something that is good for you.
Let’s use some examples to get the wheels turning.
Activities You Currently Enjoy That Are Good For You
Ok, maybe you’re not a total loaf of soggy bread. Maybe you genuinely enjoy the occasional walk around town. Perhaps you enjoy learning from historical documentaries. Consider the things you do every day that aren’t actively hastening your demise.
Activities You Once Enjoyed But Hadn’t Thought About Since
Did you play sports in high school? Middle school? Elementary school? Did you enjoy writing stories as a kid? How about painting? Have you stopped playing a musical instrument because life got too busy?
Activities Your Enjoy That Could Correspond to Something Good For You
Do you enjoy sitting still? Look at you—you potential meditator, you.
Do you tend to doodle during inconsequential meetings? Is that a budding illustrator I see?
What are your personal goals?
We all have positive goals in life. Maybe you want to achieve and maintain a certain level of fitness. Perhaps you’d like to get more sleep. Maybe you want to become an avid reader. Bring these specific goals to mind and jot them down—the more specific, the better.
And finally—use your favorite activities as tools in your growth.
Whether you physically wrote down your goals and favorite activities or just have them at the forefront of your mind, begin to draw lines between the two.
Which of your favorite activities can you leverage toward your goals?
Which of your past favorite activities could you revisit to aid your progress?
Which of your favorite activities are negatively inhibiting your goals?
How can you replace these harmful-yet-enjoyable activities with positive activities you enjoy?
Stuff You Enjoy + Stuff That’s Good For You = Stuff You Should Do
When you leverage your favorite activities that also happen to align with your goals, you can begin to craft a growth-oriented lifestyle you enjoy. This Venn diagram should summarize the point of this article as well as anything.
I jump rope because it’s fun. Fitness is a side effect.
April 2019, I was living a sedentary lifestyle and at my heaviest of 235 pounds, though I didn’t see a problem. I saw a YouTube video of a guy jumping rope. It looked fun, so I started, too. Now, I jump rope 6 days a week for fun, but the side effect is now being 187 pounds. pic.twitter.com/iKnlzfNRq9
When I was in elementary school in the early-to-mid ‘90s, Jump Rope For Heart was on a crusade to get kids jumping rope. I remember enjoying the experience thoroughly. However, once I moved into middle school, where gym class was optional, I didn’t touch a jump rope again until I was into my 30’s.
Why did I pick up jump rope again? Was it because I was at my heaviest weight of 235 pounds? Was it because I was researching various forms of exercise and found jump rope to be one of the most underrated forms of cardio?
Nope. It just looked fun. And it was.
Beginning again as an easily-winded sack of flab means it wasn’t necessarily easy, but even as an utterly sedentary desk jockey, I enjoyed the challenge.
Every week, my stamina increased, and my body began to change. I had no specific weight-loss goal in mind, aside from possibly dipping below 200 pounds for the first time in about five years. That happened rather uneventfully because, though the process was challenging, it didn’t suck. I enjoyed pushing myself to my limits and leaving puddles of sweat in my driveway. I would look forward to my next jump rope session with anticipation rather than dread.
At the time I write this, I jump rope six days a week, regardless of the weather, for 15-30 minutes, striving to keep an average heart rate of above 145 bpm.
Is it hard some mornings? Yes.
Is it challenging to push through when I feel like giving up? Definitely.
Does it suck? Absolutely not.
Leverage what you consider fun. Lean into what you consider challenging.
Whether you’re looking to run a faster mile, lose and keep off a certain amount of weight, or develop a useful meditation habit, utilizing the activities you already enjoy will help you not only tolerate the growth process but crave it. When you use enjoyable activities to push your journey towards achievement, you pour rocket fuel on your progress.
Most of us are probably familiar with the “rock bottom” scene from 1979’s comedy classic, “The Jerk.” If you’re not, Steve Martin’s character, Navin Johnson, has lost all of his wealth and his relationship with love interest Maria (played by Bernadette Peters) is on the rocks. In an attempt to prove that he hasn’t quite hit rock bottom, he walks out of his mansion, only taking “all I need.” As he scoots out of the house in his bathrobe, pants around his ankles, he grabs random items as he passes them. Cradling them in his arms, he bellows out that these few items are all he needs.
“The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches, for sure. And this. And that’s all I need. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine, and the chair.”
What started out as an act of defiance against the universe’s attempt to crush his spirit turns into a hilarious joke about just how dependant on petty materialism he really is.
The joke is on us.
We laugh at this scene—partially because of its absurdity, but also because of its relevance to our own lives. Not only do we not know how much is enough, but we also don’t know how we should decide how much is enough for our lives. However, determining how much is enough and why is absolutely crucial—not only for the sake of our own contentment but also so we can understand our role as conduits for giving in the world.
“How much is enough?” vs. “How much can I afford?”
Most of us have never taken the time to really consider what kind of stuff and how much of it is necessary for us to be content. For most of us, the question is answered by “how much can I afford?” Cheaper goods and open lines of credit have made this method of thinking immensely problematic. Suddenly, even once we no longer have enough money to keep our bills paid, we’re still allowed to feel like we don’t have enough stuff to feel satisfied.
Really, though—how much is enough to make you “happy”?
We’ve been conditioned to always seek out more without really taking the time to assess if accumulating more material goods is really worth the sacrifices we make to attain them. We’re simply never expected to ask ourselves certain contentment-determining “how much is enough” questions.
“How much (insert item here) is enough?”
How much house is enough?
How much car is enough?
How much consumer technology is enough?
How much wardrobe is enough?
Getting to the Root with “But Why?”
For anyone who has been in the presence of an inquisitive child, the question of “but why?” may seem annoying, if not maddening. However, asking ourselves “why?” we want anything is an effective practice in cutting away motivations that do not result in a contented spirit.
Why do I need this much house?
Why do I need this much car?
Why do I need this much consumer technology?
Why do I need this much of a wardrobe?
Asking “Why?” About Your Whys
To truly chip away at weak motivations, repeatedly and honestly asking “why?” about our answers to “why?” can expose flimsy reasons for wanting certain things.
“XYZ is enough car because I want a modern SUV from a luxury brand.”
“Well, because I want my car to reflect my success.”
“Appearing successful, even to strangers, is important to me.”
“Because I need outward affirmation to convince myself that I am successful.”
Not all “why” roots will be negative truths that require deeply psychological remedies. Some will be legitimate reasons, even if they seem a bit superfluous initially. Eventually, your answer to “why?” may start to become repetitive once it has begun to hit its root and may feel like a semi-compelling argument. While this is possible, it’s important to not attempt to rationalize every superfluous material desire.
You are a conduit for others.
Most of us have more than enough. We convince ourselves of the need to upgrade perfectly adequate items. We buy several versions of the same thing that differ slightly in ways only we could ever perceive. We purchase more of something than we could ever consume—from channels to data plans and beyond. Is this really the best use of our excess?
There are people, believe it or not, who do not have enough. Through unfortunate events or even as a result of systemic oppression, there those who lack even the most basic of essentials. Perhaps one of the most important reasons for determining our levels of “enoughness” is so we can be activated as a conduit for blessing in their lives. By determining what is enough for you, you will be in a more comfortable position to give. Instead of buying yet another version of that thing that still works for you, perhaps consider donating to a food bank, picking up someone’s groceries, or paying the rent for someone who has lost their job.
Once you realize what is enough for you, this is an opportunity to be a blessing for others without enough.
Contentment is a choice.
Happiness is an “inside job.” If we build our joy with the approval of others as its foundation, the moment their attention shifts or wanes, this structure will collapse. That’s why it is imperative that we choose to perpetually cultivate self-sustaining happiness and do our best to avoid conditional “hits” of happiness.
Happiness through material possession is unquenchable.
Happiness through social approval is fickle.
Happiness through accomplishment is untenable.
Happiness generated via chosen contentment within the present moment is abiding.
The only truthful answer to “I’ll be happy when…” is “…when I decide to allow myself to be happy.”
Putting Enough Into Practice
Answer the following question about all material possessions you have or feel you need.
What do you feel is enough (house, vehicle, technology, wardrobe, etc.) for you?
Why do you feel that this is so?
Could the resources you’ve invested in this item or service be better utilized for others while leaving you feeling like you have enough? How?
Though we’d all love to shelf 2020 (or run it through the shredder), there’s no denying that we all learned a lot about ourselves throughout this year. It would be a shame to call 2020 an absolute waste—especially since it had so many lessons to impart. Yes, most of these lessons are how not to do certain things, but also how to lean into the storm of life to keep it from completely knocking us down.
For some, the lessons they learned and skills developed were how to cope with physical obstacles—lost jobs, lost homes, lost connections, lost bodily health, and even sadly, the loss of loved ones. For others, the obstacles were more mental and emotional—anxiety, depression, isolation, a lack of motivation. The list is endless.
Despite these obstacles, when carefully studied, we can recall the strategies, remedies, and mindsets we used to endure.
If the tools and emotional armor we developed worked as well as they did when we squared off directly with the travails of 2020, how much more effective could these approaches prove for positive growth and maintenance during times less fraught with adversity?
Let’s say you were forced to become more frugal with your finances because a member of your family lost their job. Maybe you can take these newfound budgeting skills beyond when money is coming in to save toward your goals.
Maybe, to better cope with the anxiety and depression of being away from friends and loved ones, you were forced to seek and cultivate new practices to maintain your mental health. These methods could have included meditation, exercise, therapy, spirituality, or new interests. Though developed under immense pressure, these beneficial coping methods should be treated like precious gems you can continue to keep with you.
Before you close the book on 2020 and abandon it entirely—writing it off as a painful memory— remember the tools you forged to help you make it through the storm. These tools can prove to be invaluable companions that will serve you for the rest of your life.
Disclaimer: I mostly wrote this article to myself, but felt that it may be helpful to others.
The Scattered-Focus Life
With information and global networking more attainable than ever, there’s no reason why, with a little focused effort, any of us can’t become world-class specialists in our craft. From graphic designers, developers, writers, videographers, and photographers to business managers, financial professionals, and educators, with the proper focus, we can continue to sharpen our craft every day. But many of us choose not to. Why? Because we prefer the easier, scatterbrained life.
Multi-tasking vs. Fragmented Focus
Yes, listening to a podcast while folding the laundry or watching a TV show while riding a stationary bicycle are both within the realm of what we deem “multi-tasking.” This is due to the limited concentration required for the accompanying task. This being said, one task always has focus over another. The folding of the laundry, the riding of the bicycle—these tasks require virtually no mental bandwidth whatsoever. That means that our primary focus is on the plot of the show or the content of the podcast. And that’s perfectly fine, as long as we’re not fooling ourselves into believing that we can split our focus 50/50 between both activities simultaneously. This is a lie—a lie that we frequently tell ourselves when it comes to pursuing our craft.
Forsaking Focus On Your Craft
When we attempt to use this same logic in our working lives, the same rules apply; one takes the lion’s share of our focus. Though we can listen to repetitive music while we write about complex subjects, we can’t simultaneously watch riveting programming while claiming to provide the necessary attention to our valued specialty.
Why not? Well, firstly, as much as you claim to be the unique person with the capacity for split focus, you simply can’t. But more importantly, because your craft deserves to be the primary focus of your conscious mind. Your concentration deserves your concentration.
So, if you hope to sharpen your skills and create meaningful work, sign out of Netflix, close the YouTube browser, turn off the podcast episode, and give your craft what it deserves — the captain’s seat of your focus.
From about the time I was seven or eight years old, I was in charge of writing my family’s annual holiday newsletter—a job I would put on my resume today if others took it as seriously as I did.
In this snail-mailed update, the newsletter usually followed a familiar recipe;
greetings intro blurb
family update paragraph
older brother paragraph
my own paragraph
I aimed to keep it short enough to only use the front of one sheet of paper—a practice that I feel has enhanced my editing skills to this day.
Just as we enjoyed mailing this letter out to far-flung family and friends, we also thoroughly enjoyed receiving others. From November through December, we’d fish one out of a pile on the center of the dining room table to read over the morning’s bowl of cereal or on a lazy weekend afternoon.
Sadly, after a while, most families stopped putting out annual newsletters.
What killed them? It wouldn’t be going out on a limb to blame the emergence of social media.
Gone are the days are, “I wonder what the Hendersons are up to.”
Family milestones are simply “reacted” to with the click of a heart-shaped button and a reheated, “So cute,”“That’s fantastic,” or “Thoughts and prayers.”
In-person conversations and email correspondences have been reduced to,
“Yeah, I saw that you had posted about that,” and “I know, I laughed so hard when I saw that post…”
Is it possible that too much digital socialization can leave us feeling even more detached from physical socialization than physical detachment?
I believe so. And I think there is a better way.
Enter: the personal newsletter.
The Personal Email Newsletter
It works like this:
Those who desire to keep up with one’s life the same way they do on social media only simply need to subscribe to their email newsletter through a free online email subscription tool (more about that in a second).
The author of the newsletter keeps their curated group of friends (not to be confused with acquaintances) updated with a periodic email newsletter.
No Hard Feelings
The author can choose to deny subscription requests from anyone they don’t feel close enough to receive their updates—no hard feelings.
On the flip side, if any reader decides they don’t want to receive these email updates anymore, they simply unsubscribe—also, no hard feelings.
Vanity metrics, such as any open rates or engagement, should be avoided at all costs. These newsletters are about the quality of the connection, not the quantity of the readership.
Authors should feel free to keep access to their newsletters exclusive. The higher the quality of your relationships with your readers, the more honest you can be in your newsletters. Remember “Dunbar’s Number” —the theory that our brains can really only juggle a maximum of around 150 relationships. After that, it’s wishful thinking. Your subscriber count will likely be many times less than that, but each connection will be of a higher quality.
Do not subscribe to acquaintances with whom you don’t intend to make closer friends. A subscription is no place for voyeurism. Ask yourself, “If I saw them in person in a bar and I was alone, would I feel ok about asking them to pull up a seat?” If the answer isn’t “absolutely,” don’t subscribe to their newsletter.
The Less Frequent, the Better
Authors are encouraged to be as light or as deep as they want. Newsletters can cover just the basics, remain lighthearted, or go into deep issues close to the author’s heart.
Feel free to respond to someone’s newsletter to spark a friendly email correspondence. Better yet, save your questions about the nature of their newsletter for an in-person interaction—perhaps over a coffee or a pint. Though covid-conditions make this problematic for the time being, there will come a time when questions about a thought-provoking newsletter should result in a scheduled time to grab a coffee or a drink for an in-person discussion.
Authors should strive to limit how frequently they send these newsletters to reduce the likelihood of inundating the readers’ inboxes. Instead of posting any thought you have, consider compiling your thoughts on a single note on your phone or computer and curating these thoughts into your monthly, seasonally, and even annual newsletter.
Do not email a list through your email service. Not only does this expose email addresses to others, but it removes their ability to unsubscribe from your newsletters. Failing to use a newsletter service may result in getting your address flagged as spam or even damaging your relationships.
TinyLetter: Though a free email service that follows all of these guidelines to the above specifications does not yet exist, I’ve found that TinyLetter is the closest email newsletter tool for these purposes. Its stripped-down nature lends itself well to personal email newsletters. Its subscription tools allow friends to easily subscribe and unsubscribe as they so choose.
The use of mobile note-taking applications greatly aids newsletter development. Instead of feeling the need to post every idea that com es to mind on a social media platform, collecting thoughts in the moment for later posts will result in a higher quality correspondence experience. I prefer Google Keep. Others may like Evernote, OneNote, or Notion. Sometimes, I’ll even journal on a Google Doc kept in Drive on my phone. Whether you use a note-taking app or a paper notebook, the most crucial part is recalling your notes later for future newsletter updates.
Moving to a newsletter-based approach to online socialization is meant to use technology as a tool for fostering high-quality friendships, not digital voyeurism or social skimming. While you may not have nearly the number of personal newsletter readers as friends on Facebook, that’s a good thing—most of those people aren’t your friends anyway.
Cheers to cultivating genuine, high-quality friendships.
About 16 months ago, I deactivated my personal Facebook profile for reasons I covered in a previous article. This week, in preparation for a move, I reactivated it to offload stuff on Facebook Marketplace. In the meantime, I decided to give the platform a second look. The following are my thoughts.
1. It was nice to catch up.
For as much trash as I have been talking on Facebook for over the last year, it was refreshing to revisit the profiles of many people I hadn’t heard from since my departure from the platform. Seeing how much their kids had grown, what they were up to, and interacting with them in the comments section was what my quarantine-tarnished spirit needed.
2. It’s definitely not a replacement for socialization.
There are many that use Facebook as a replacement for natural socialization. During these times of pandemic and lockdowns, there’s some logic to this. Still, I believe that this type of socialization may even be worse than no socialization at all.
Let me explain:
In a natural social encounter, any conversation is typically confined to the number of people who can occupy one restaurant booth — I’ll even include those big corner ones that require a butt-scoot to get into and an awkward request to get out of when you have to pee. The conversation darts from person to person — either just two people or seven — like a game of hot potato. And it’s one of the most enjoyable experiences one can have — one that has even been shown to lengthen our lifespan. This is not what happens on Facebook.
On Facebook, I essentially take control of my own jumbotron and blurt something in the form of a post. Others then “react” (their lingo, not mine) with sub-posts of their own. What results is not a conversation, but a subliminal performance for a large audience. And performances, realized or subconscious…are exhausting. That’s frequently why after a scroll session, I don’t feel invigorated, but downright drained — and worse, anxious, which leads to the next thing I noticed.
3. I can’t truly turn it off.
Because it had been over a year since my last posting, I felt it would at least be nice to catch my “friends” up on the gist of what had transpired since we last exchanged the proverbial ones and zeroes. I typed up a 500-ish-word update on the state of my immediate family and posted it along with a few pictures taken since then. The “reactions” immediately poured in — Likes, Hearts, and occasional comments.
“Hmm, how nice,” I thought and then went to have dinner with my family.
All throughout dinner, wondering how others were interacting with that post ran in my mind — not in the front, but in the back, like a program running on a computer. While interacting with my family over a delicious meal, the post’s “performance” metrics ran in the background.
After helping get our son ready for bed, tidying the living room, and pouring myself a glass of wine, I returned to my laptop to see how the post was “performing.” Because I refuse to look at social media on my phone, there I was — checking the stats on the equivalent of a family newsletter to my 654 “friends” in the dark.
And for what? Metrics that suddenly felt emptier than ever.
4. I’d trade a million “likes” for one meaningful comment.
Back when I was an avid Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter user, “likes” “loves” and “favorites” were my key performance indicators (“KPIs” for those in the biz). I don’t know what has changed in the past 16 months, but the present significance of these one-click interactions don’t correspond to their intended emotional correlation of “I like this” or “I love this” Rather, they feel to me more like, “I’ve observed this and find it palatable” or even just, “I want you to know that I’ve witnessed your post.”
And while I’d trade a million “likes” for a comment, I’ve noticed that many people’s comments aren’t much more supportive than their single-click versions. Comments that once wielded new perspectives or a truly sympathetic timbre now feel boilerplate, microwaved, and lacking genuine connection — like small talk about the weather or the banal “how was your weekend?” “Not too bad. And you?” chitchat.
5. Let’s face it — most of it is a performance.
I’m far from innocent of the practice of portraying my family life as sterling. While I do feel like my immediate family unit is pretty incredible, there are items I choose to conceal.
Like the time when my son tripped on a pillow this week and busted his lip open on the coffee table, leaving some of the skin of his upper lip stuck between his tiny teeth —leaving one of my favorite shirts with toddler bloodstains.
Like how I’ve had to call the police multiple times at 3 AM due to the mentally-imbalanced, blood-curdling-yet-involuntary shrieks of an extremely close neighbor whom I believe has been abandoned to live by herself by…who knows.
Like how my home office desk is about eight feet from my cat’s litter box.
Like how I suffered from severe hypochondria-induced anxiety around the beginning of the summer leading up to my routine CT-scan because I’m in remission from testicular cancer.
Fortunately, my son’s lip healed up in about a day, my anxiety dissipated (or I got over it — not precisely sure which happened), and we’re moving soon away from that poor screaming lady to a home with more room for a home office.
To onlookers who viewed my update, I received comments such as “Glad to see you’re doing well!” — a comment that is totally appropriate based on the filters I subconsciously massaged into the post. But I’m far from the only one. These are the performances and curated lives I see up and down my timeline. While most would say there’s nothing wrong with these, it tends to make one ask two questions:
1. “Is their life actually as amazing as they make it appear?”
And more dangerously:
2. Why can’t my life be that perfect?”
As a dear friend Brian Hughes said in a recent email exchange with him on this subject:
“We are all the stars of our Facebook page…love me, acknowledge me, encourage me, agree with me, ‘you go girl’, etc… It’s like blowing air into a balloon but not tying it off. It leaks out quickly and needs more ‘air’ constantly.”
An apt analogy, Hughesy.
6. It’s been ok for me to let go of most of these “friends.”
It’s true that we don’t include our true selves in our posts out of fear of not providing a positive Facebook viewing experience for others. I didn’t post the details about my anxiety or my son’s busted lip because it didn’t seem like the place. I also feared being judged by many “friends” — most of whom are acquaintances at best.
The Game Changer: Dunbar’s Number
Engaging in these social performances for acquaintances can be mentally exhausting. It wasn’t until I learned about “Dunbar’s Number” that I learned why.
According to acclaimed anthropologist, Robin Dunbar, there is a cognitive limit to how many relationships we can effectively juggle — roughly 150. As he put it, 150 is “the number of people you would not feel embarrassed about joining uninvited for a drink if you happened to bump into them in a bar.” Just think about your own Facebook “friends” — how many of them, if spotted in a pub or coffee shop, would you feel ok about inviting to pull up a chair or bar stool to shoot the breeze?
How many Facebook “friends” have you actually hidden from in public? C’mon — you know you’ve done it.
If we’re honest with ourselves, given the option, most of these people would not bother to maintain an email correspondence with us, much less a meaningful in-person friendship. How do I know this? Because I tried it. After days of both displaying Instagram and Facebook posts announcing my leaving of the platforms and my desire to carry on email correspondence, only one person who didn’t before have my email address reached out. Thanks, Roger.
Everyone else was already close enough friends to already have my phone number and my email address or, I’m assuming, didn’t care to continue a digital friendship with me on another platform.
And you know what? That’s fine. Nobody needs 654 “friends.”
While the sounds of crickets in my inbox after announcing my departure from most social media platforms would have made me feel down in June of 2019 when I originally left Facebook, these days, that’s not the case. The fact that so few have reciprocated my requests to continue friendships offline leads me to two possible conclusions:
1. I’m a jerk.
2. We don’t need to fake being friends.
Genuine friends would want to hear about your highs and your lows.
True pals will return your calls.
Legitimate buddies will actually check up on you.
Real amigos will put their phones away when you sit down for a drink.
When they ask you how you’re doing, they’re not just making small talk — they genuinely want to know.
I feel immensely blessed to have wonderful people in my life. I wish the present times allowed for more in-person interaction, but for now, I cherish the one-on-one interaction of a phone call or even an email or text correspondence.
So, I’m deactivating again — not because I’m better than Facebook, but because I’m too easily fooled and distracted. A multi-billion-dollar industry wants my attention. And it wants to convince me that these 654 people are my “friends.” 95% of them aren’t, and I’m ok with that. If anything, that frees me up to focus on the 5% who are. If I can enjoy a pint with the 32.7 of them that remain and ask, “how are you really doing?” through good times and bad, that means more to me than a billion “likes.”
If you enjoyed this piece, consider subscribing. Thanks. – Ken
Even after we’ve grown up, we still believe in superheroes.
The “work hard, play hard” mentality has convinced a generation of “wantrepreneurs” that hard work, long hours, and a swiss-army-knife-array of lifehacks are the key to success. Those who can endure such grueling schedules are not only seen as more than successful—they’re superhuman.
An obsession with the lifestyles of high-achieving entrepreneurs and personalities has led many to fixate on a popular hustle metric: what time you get up in the morning.
And guess what? According to recent scientific research, they’d have to be superhuman for such lifestyles to be sustainable.
The Downside of Irresponsible Early Rising
The appeal of getting up early is the goal of adding hours to one’s days. Though you stayed up late, getting up early gives you a headstart on life—providing time to exercise, tend to your wellbeing, or squeeze in an edge on the snoozing competition. However, science says that the wakefulness we steal from our mornings to pay for this edge are debts that will very likely come due.
“Every disease that is killing us in developed nations has causal and significant links to a lack of sleep,” Walker reports. “So, that classic maxim that you may [have] heard that you can sleep when you’re dead—it’s actually mortally unwise advice from a very serious standpoint.”
Our waking brain has been found to maintain a build-up of metabolic waste. This beta-amyloid waste has been associated with the impairment of communication between neurons present in Alzheimer’s patients. Though this sounds scary, there’s a bright side: like running the dishwasher overnight on pots and pans, sufficient sleep releases a flood of cerebrospinal fluid to wash this waste away.
Failing to achieve sufficient sleep can be compared to leaving your dried peanut-butter-coated china in the dishwasher overnight and hoping a light rinse will leave them adequately ready for important company the next day.
In Why We Sleep, Walker contributed two examples of famous high-achievers who frequently boasted their lack of a need for sufficient sleep—the U.S. President Ronald Reagan and British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. Both of these officials were known for their almost superhuman ability to function on very little sleep. What else did they have in common? They both later suffered from severe dementia that robbed them of their mental acuity and likely shortened their lives. Though these are just two examples, the before mentioned has established associations between a lack of sleep and advanced cognitive decline.
Sufficient Sleep Recommendations
So, what is considered insufficient sleep? 3 hours a night? 4 hours a night? Think again: anything below 6 hours a night.
In addition to cognitive decline, Walker’s research has also linked insufficient sleep to a significant increase in the likelihood of developing:
What is the most important alarm for those who want to get an early start? It’s definitely not their morning alarm, but an evening alarm. Because the evening hours are notorious for slipping by us, setting evening “get ready for bed” and “lights out” alarms are your best bet to getting to bed at a time required to receive sufficient sleep—anywhere from between 7-9 hours of sleep, according to Walker.
Powering Down in Phases
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with getting up early. If anything, some of the highest performing athletes also beat the dawn. However, unlike many of their peers in achievement, professional athletes carefully structure their hours of sleep. How do they do this? By regimenting and guarding their evening activities. In addition to a designated “light’s out” time, many sleep guardians are known to practice power-down phases to prepare their bodies and minds for sleep.
“I follow the same bedtime routine and start getting ready for bed around 9 p.m. My wife and I turn off the TV and don’t look at our phones other than setting the alarm to have 30-45 minutes of no ‘blue’ light before we go to sleep. I then read a book to get my eyes tired, then I kiss my wife goodnight, and I’m out cold in a couple of minutes.”
Following a similar routine can ensure you receive sufficient sleep.
While turning off bright overhead lights can help you prepare for bed, your favorite devices can also be suppressing your melatonin and throwing off your circadian rhythms by emitting generous amounts of blue light. Televisions, computer monitors, and phone screens are the worst offenders. About an hour before bed, try to limit your use of such disruptive devices. Instead, opt for that book you’ve been meaning to get to, journal about what’s on your mind, or play a board game with another member of your household.
What to Avoid Before Bed
To ensure quality sleep, there are several behaviors and consumables you will want to avoid. Some of these seem fairly straightforward. Others seem counterintuitive.
Alcohol: Though it can feel like the occasional glass or two of wine can help you nod off easier, its key ingredient can lead to later tossing and turning. Though the alcohol can help you drift off, the body won’t begin to fully metabolize it until later—a process that can leave your body feeling restless. The consumption of alcohol before bed has also been found to inhibit deep R.E.M. sleep.
Caffeine after 5 PM: Though caffeine only spikes your energy levels for about a half-hour to an hour after consumption, its effects can linger for as much as five hours. Yes, that trip to Starbucks after work may be the reason you’re still tossing and turning at night.
Exercise: I’ll admit, I used to enjoy using up the last of my energy for the day with a jump rope in my driveway at 9 PM. However, the effort of intense exercise can spike levels of cortisol—your body’s main stress hormone. For this reason, keep your exercise to no more than three hours before lights out.
Distractions in the bed: As we’ve mentioned above, the blue light from TV, computer, and mobile devices can inhibit the production of melatonin—disrupting your brain’s circadian rhythms. While all screens should be avoided in bed, your bed should also be treated as a place reserved for two things—1. Sleep 2. Sex. Watching TV, working on a laptop, or even reading books can muddy your brain’s understanding of the purpose of your bed and result in restlessness.
Sleep aids: For many, getting to bed means popping a popular sedative. There’s only one problem with that—sedation and sleep are not synonymous mental states. Natural sleep is an incredibly elaborate restorative process of the mind and body. Sedatives, on the other hand, simply induce unconsciousness without many of the other attributes of sleep. As Matthew Walker put it, “We don’t have any good pharmacological approach right now to replicate such a nuanced and complex set of biological changes.”
In Bed ≠ Time Asleep
When running the numbers on how to achieve sufficient sleep, remember to leave a window of time to actually fall asleep. For most healthy individuals, falling asleep takes about 10 to 20 minutes on average. For this reason, it’s important to differentiate “lights out” from “sleeping” time.
What to Do When You Can’t Sleep
There will always be occasions when, despite your best efforts, you simply can’t sleep. What to do now? Get out of bed.
Why get out of bed? According to Walker, your brain is an extremely environmentally sensitive machine. If you spend enough time awake, staring at your ceiling in rumination, your brain will associate that activity with your bed. Instead, get out of bed, possibly even going into another room. Use that time to read a book (not on a screen), listen to soothing music, write in a journal, play solitaire with a deck of cards, or meditate until you grow tired enough for sleep. These types of relaxing activities will not only help you to grow sleepier but will also likely distract you from the anxieties that may be keeping you awake.
For its importance to absolutely every aspect of our health, the only reason we’re not asked about it more by our physicians is the timeliness of understanding its importance—thanks to the very recent strides in imaging technology. Despite these earth-shattering discoveries, neurologist Matthew Walker believes that we are, as a society, experiencing a “catastrophic sleep-loss epidemic.”
So, what is the best way to attempt to maximize your own potential to live the lives of your idolized superheroes? Go to bed on time.
Due to the global pandemic, more of us unable to pray in the minyanim (groups) that we normally would be able to. This has caused many of us to pray alone—sometimes in a tongue that is not the most familiar. For the sake of those modern English speakers wishing to align with the Creator of the Universe through traditional Jewish prayers, I’ve curated some of the “greatest hits” of Weekday prayer and provided some of my favorite translations. Some are lifted from other prayerbooks. Some are my original reframings of existing prayers. All of them are for you to enjoy for free here in ebook format.
From book introduction: This siddur is for those who are seeking to connect with the Creator of the Universe in a Jewish way, but are either still learning to make Hebrew the language of their heart or simply prefer to seek out Hashem in their English mother tongue. It is not meant as a replacement to traditional Hebrew prayer, but instead as an accompanying resource. Many of the prayers are also heavily abbreviated assist in facilitating regular prayer—to eliminate any daunting element of initiating tefillah. The best siddur is the one that is regularly used. The best prayers are the easiest to initiate. If the praying individual wishes to pray more, there are always Tehillim (Psalms) they can utter, additional tefillah (as found in the back of this book) or hitbodedut (personal prayer.)
How to Upload MOBI or PDF Files to Your Kindle On Computer
If you have the Kindle for Mac application installed on your Mac computer, you should only have to open the .mobi file on your computer and use the Kindle for Mac application to open it. This should also upload the book to your Library across your devices.
How to Upload MOBI or PDF Files to Your Kindle Via Email
A PDF will work, but you’ll prefer the MOBI file
Right-click or hold down the link to download the MOBI or PDF file to your computer or device.