We often judge opportunities based on the potential benefit or “up side” as it’s often called. If we do ‘X’ we get ‘Y’. Typically the risk we consider is simply not getting ‘Y’ if we fail to accomplish ‘X’.
I’ve come to rely on an additional approach to judging both opportunity and risk. I call it the “cost of failure”.
It’s quick, easy, and now one of my most important evaluation tools.
Is it possible to be simultaneously content and passionate about something?
By content, I mean in the Buddhist sense of acceptance of the present moment.
By passionate, I mean wanting something more, and feeling strongly about it.
It’s something I wrestle with.
Pictured above is an aerial photo I took of the grocery store I was working at in 1977. I’m in the process of digitizing a large collection of my old photos, and it’s one that resurfaced. A friend of mine was a private pilot, and on one of our flights we flew over the location.
Here’s the location today, courtesy of Google Earth.
We love our opinions. We really do. We’re so proud of them, and we’re so eager to share them with anyone who’ll listen, and many who won’t.
And yet, there’s the adage: “Opinions are like assholes: everyone has one, and no one wants to see yours.”
Social media gets a lot of negative press. It’s blamed for the increasing political divide, for increased rates of depression, particularly among teenaged girls, for being some kind of spying tool used by corporations and foreign governments, and more.
And, to be completely honest, much of that is probably accurate.
But it also overshadows the fact that there are some very positive things happening on social media as well.
I started 7 Takeaways it for myself, to “force” me to consume higher quality content more consistently. Apparently I start newsletters to make myself do things.
Curating for others was never on the agenda, not really. Besides, there are so many other curated newsletters, and many of them are so much better. Hell, I get some of my ideas from them!
I “retired” in 2001 at 44, after an 18-year career at Microsoft.
There was a spreadsheet (in Excel, of course) that calculated I was done. The meteoric rise of the Microsoft stock price and the serendipitous timing of my joining came together to give me options (including literally stock options), for which I am forever grateful.
However.
I was recently reading some articles discussing the traditional transition from the work-a-day world — aka a “job” — to a world of leisure and choice — aka “retirement”.
I was getting increasingly uncomfortable with the assumptions and preconceptions of what it means to retire.
Walter was a sweet boy, with a penchant for bread. We’re pretty convinced that given the choice between steak and bread, it’d be bread every time. (Though, to be fair, his tastes grew to encompass anything “bread like”.)
It almost feels trendy to talk about anxiety these days.
In part, I suppose, because it’s become more prevalent due to the pandemic, and politics, and social media, and, and, and …
But has it though? Has become more prevalent, or just more visible?
Based on my experience I would say: why not both?
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
Which step?
Which step is the first step?
Where does the journey begin?
It’s not uncommon for people to pick a theme or a word for the new year. I’ve been seeing a few over the past few days as we enter 2023.
It’s not something I’ve ever done. I tend not to do the New Year’s resolution thing. To quote a friend: “I long ago realized I didn’t have to wait for an arbitrary date to make changes in my life”.
However, this year a few things have come together in a moment of serendipity that’s making me think a theme might be in order.
For my essay Musings on AI, Learning, and Copyright I decided to ask ChatGPT to compare the ways humans and large language models consume information and then how they use that to create content.
My prompts, and ChatGPT”s full responses are below.
I need to rant a little.
As you might expect, my “day job“, and a lot of my not-so-day-job, involves answering questions. It varies, of course. Some questions are simple yes/no, some are translating consumer terminology into more accurate terms and returning a “search result” from one of my websites to help, and so on.
Mostly it’s pretty simple Q&A.
Sometimes it’s less simple.
Sometimes it’s iterative. And sometimes that’s very, very frustrating.
“Every day is an experiment” (also “everything is an experiment”) is a mantra, of sorts, I adopted some years ago. It’s a mental model I find both freeing and empowering.
Treating the world, or life, with the idea that everything you do is an experiment of some sort to be learned from is also an exceptionally powerful path for growth.
It was in our faces the entire time. Right there in the lower left.
Perhaps the most important piece of life advice ever was provided by Microsoft, and we didn’t even realize it.
And then they took it away. We still call it a “Start” button, but the text admonition has disappeared.
Deity: Hello. Welcome. <spreads celestial “hands”>
me: uh … hi. Where am I?
Deity: What’s the last thing you remember?
me: Going to bed, I think. Yeah, that and a weird dream after I fell asleep. And then, all of a sudden, here.
Deity: uh huh.
me: Am I … ?
Deity: Are you …?
me: Am I … dead?
The Breukelen cemetery is one of the few locations on the planet that has lasting meaning for me. It’s a place to which I make a pilgrimage each time I’m in The Netherlands.
This year’s pilgrimage had an additional agenda.
It was 35 miles round trip by bike.
I don’t have that many particularly significant places on this planet. Those that would be are the “places” that are less about locations than they are about who happens to be there (i.e. “wherever my wife is”, “my close relative or friend’s current home”, and so on). These kinds of places can change as people move.
The more traditionally meaningful places have all fallen by the wayside. Significance has faded over time. The places themselves have fallen in to disrepair or become virtually unrecognizable. In perhaps my most personally significant case, they’ve disappeared completely.
I originally wrote this in 2017 as part of a 60 days of gratitude exercise, forgot that I had, and wrote a completely new version in 2022. Whoops. This is now an amalgamation of the two, updated during a recent trip to The Netherlands, of course.
♥
English is not my first language.
I love to tell people that for two reasons: it’s absolutely true, and most would never guess.
Naturally, there’s a story.
(Long one, today. I didn’t plan on it, but here we are. 
)
I’ve been asked a couple of time how I manage to do so much. If I look at what I produce each week, it adds up:
Even considering all that I don’t accomplish every week even if I’m supposed to (my wife has that list), it’s still quite a lot.
The answer to the question turned out to be longer than I expected. I have a combination of frameworks, routines, habits, tools, and mindset that are probably pretty unique to me. While I pay attention to a lot of “productivity porn”, as it’s sometimes called, I think I’ve ended up with a blend of approaches that work fairly well for me.
I don’t expect they’ll work for everyone. But let’s look at how I do what I do hoping you might find a nugget or two that resonates and can help you get s**t done.