Archives for 2021

The sun is fierce. The back of my neck is searing in that I-forgot-the-sunblock kind of way. I arrived at 07:30 this morning for the 9am walk-ins. I’m 15th in line for the Moderna Vaccine.

By 08:30, there are hundreds of people in line, and the queue is round multiple blocks.

The line is long because there are only a few vaccination sites in London that offer Moderna. AstraZeneca and Pfizer are much easier to come by.

I’m grateful for friends who told me about this walk in centre being open today, and for the tip to arrive early. Thanks, Naomi and Andrew! If it wasn’t for them, I’d need to drive 1.5 hours to another clinic later in the week.

And I’m grateful that after 18 months of this pandemic, I’m on the cusp of getting my 2nd dose.

See you on the other side!

Note: This post is part of a weekly series called ‘Seneca Sundays’. Each week, I reflect on one of Seneca’s ‘Moral Letters to Lucilius’, and summarise the most practical and useful principles to share with you.

Letter #1 is a great introduction to Seneca’s Moral Letters. It’s short, easy to digest, and wholly concerned with the one thing we own: the little time we’re given.

1. Show me someone who truly values their time

I’m guilty of letting most days pass without thinking about their unique worth and role in the broader narrative of my life.

I forget that I’m “dying daily… and that whatever years have passed are already in death’s hands.”

We own nothing except the little time we’ve been given, and the energy we have to act during that time.

Although it feels cliche, Seneca’s instruction to Lucilius is still just as relevant today as it was 2,000 years ago: “hold every hour in your grasp… gather and save your time… set yourself free for your own sake.”

2. Much of time is lost unconsciously

We don’t deliberately waste our time.

However, we often lose time due to carelessness, procrastination, or by simply not valuing it appropriately.

For example, we’re often quick to put a price on material possessions, but we hardly hesitate when someone asks for some of our time. “And yet time is the one loan which even a grateful recipient cannot repay,” says Seneca.

3. Don’t wait til the bottom of the cask

“I advise you, however, to keep what is really yours; and you cannot begin too early. For, as our ancestors believed, it is too late to spare when you reach the dregs of the cask. Of that which remains at the bottom, the amount is slight, and the quality is vile.”

I once heard an analogy that we each have an 100-year-sized water tank. It’s a large, opaque tank, and we get to choose when, how much, and for what, we use the water inside.

The catch is the amount of water in our tank is unknown, and there’s no way of finding out how much we have left.

Some people use their water like it’ll never run out. Some people conserve their water to the point they forget to live.

Let’s not wait until the water has run out before we start to appreciate it.

I love Our World In Data. They’re a scientific, online publication that uses data to communicate large, global problems in easy to understand ways.

Isn’t this chart insane?

The pink line shows global population growth rate. The green area shows global population. For 200 years the population growth rate has been consistently positive, and the human population has increased every single year without fail.

The UN is predicting that by 2100, the global population rate will fall to 0.1%, and we’ll have hit a “terminal velocity” of sorts at almost 11 billion people on Earth. This will mean that in the space of 250 years, we will have seen a 10x increase in the size of the world’s population—up from only 600 million in 1700 (or less than half of India’s population today!).

We’re just shy of 8 billion humans on the planet today, so I find it hard to imagine 11 billion. Regardless, it’s fascinating to pause, look at the numbers, and to see where we’re headed.

The 21st Century is going to be like no other.

As I fast approach 2 years of daily writing, I’d love to get some feedback from you!

What type of posts do you enjoy most?

What type of posts make you scrunch your face and skip?

What keeps you reading?

What would make this blog better?

I love to hear your ideas, opinions, and suggestions as I’ll start folding them into upcoming posts.

Thank you for going on this journey with me!

When Warren Buffett’s long time business partner, Charlie Munger, ran a law firm in the 1960s, he used to say, “It’s the work on your desk… it’s the work on your desk. Do well with what you have, and more will follow.”

I love this.

A good plan is rarely made when we’re focused only on chasing the next big thing.

After all, the next big thing isn’t always the next best thing.

There are two rules—that when used properly and together—can have an immense positive impact on our work day, and our work-life balance.

1. Parkinson’s Law
2. The 80/20 Rule

Parkinson’s Law states that work expands to fill the time available.

Ever wondered why we finish that document or presentation at the last minute regardless of how long we had for the task?

The 80/20 rule states that 20% of the inputs determine 80% of the outputs.

What would happen if you only worked on the 20% of activities that caused 80% of the results?

What if we all operated like this?

I don’t look at my blog’s statistics very often, maybe once every few months.

But I got curious: what would happen if I just followed the data? What if I looked at the stats, and solely optimised to increase views and readership?

The answer: this blog would be a shrine to Amazon and Jeff Bezos.

‘Write like an Amazonian’ and ‘Type 1 and Type 2 Decisions’ have collectively had more than 25x the number of views than the 3rd most-viewed post.

I suspect this is primarily down to my posts lucking out on SEO; hitting a lot of the key words when people search for these terms.

All of this to say: if I was optimising this blog based on the data, it’s focus, sound, and feel would be very different.

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to become an Amazon-focused blog. But it is a lesson in carefully selecting the inputs for our optimisation decisions.

Even if the data looks promising, it could be sending you, your writing, your service, or your product in a direction you never intended it to go.

I’m going to be experimenting with VR over the coming weeks.

Facebook’s Oculus Quest 2 headset has been a boon for the VR movement—receiving resounding positive reviews since its release—and I thought it was about time I give it a proper go.

Facebook is betting that VR/AR will be the next operating system, seemlessly allowing families and friends to connect and play together in virtual worlds. But it’s a platform and ecosystem that’s still far from mainstream adoption.

Any recommendations for apps, games, or experiences I should be looking into?

What’s your opinion on VR? And is that before or after you’ve given it a real go?

Note: This post is part of a weekly series called ‘Seneca Sundays’. Each week, I reflect on one of Seneca’s ‘Moral Letters to Lucilius’, and summarise the most practical and useful principles to share with you.

In this short letter, Seneca encourages us to identify our own faults with objectivity, as this is the only way to self improvement. He goes on to say that we must share what we learn with others; we must not keep new-found wisdom to ourselves.

1. Being able to identify our own faults is evidence we’re getting better

Seneca was constantly working to become a better person.

“I do not indulge the hope that there are no elements left in me which need to be changed. Of course there are many that should be made more compact, or made thinner, or be brought into greater prominence. And indeed this very fact is proof that my spirit is altered into something better, – that it can see its own faults, of which it was previously ignorant”.

Ever met someone who can do no wrong? A person who never owns up to their mistakes? Such people are ignorant about—or at least not willing to confront—their flaws, making it impossible for them to improve.

It takes skill to recognise our faults, and to analyse them objectively, as this is the only way we can get better.

2. And when we learn, we must share

“Nothing will ever please me, no matter how excellent or beneficial, if I must retain the knowledge of it to myself. And if wisdom were given me under the express condition that it must be kept hidden and not uttered, I should refuse it. No good thing is pleasant to possess, without friends to share it.”

Since day one, this blog has been a place to pen down what I’ve been noticing in the world around me. Mistakes and all. And although I write for my own learning, I’m thrilled that by sharing them, they resonate with a small group of readers.

I love it when I receive your emails with feedback, suggestions for posts, and your own tangential or related learnings. It’s this mutual sharing that makes blogging and sharing a richer experience.

3. Learn from the patterns of those who are wiser than you

Seneca says that although we can learn by reading and memorising principles, it’s better to get close to the action.

Seneca gave good examples too: Plato learnt by being close to Socrates, and so did Aristotle by being close to Plato.

We should seek out those we admire—those who have proven themselves virtuous—and spend as much time with them as possible. We should get close enough to them to observe the patterns in their daily lives and how they conduct themselves because “the living voice and the intimacy of a common life will help you more than the written word.”

We all have bad days.

The house is a mess. We miss a workout. We eat off diet. Someone stands us up for a meeting. Someone doesn’t say thanks for our hard work.

It could be any number of things that leave us irritable and flustered, but it’s our choice whether or not we let a single event ruin our day.

One thing I’ve found helpful is separating the day into 4 quarters. By breaking the day down into these smaller pieces, even if we have a poor Q1 and Q2, there’s still an opportunity to make things better in Q3 and Q4.

Choosing to compartmentalise the day into quarters can help us close the chapter quickly on negative situations, allowing us to focus on improving in the next quarter.

Learning how to surf can teach us a lot about life.

There’s a lot of paddling.

Waiting.

Watching.

Judging.

Should I catch this wave? How about the next?

The waves are unpredictable.

They come in sets: a group of 3-10 waves.

There are minutes between sets where everything is calm. Such a quiet spell may continue until you think your chance is gone, and that the waves are done for the day.

But then, eventually, another set arrives.

Even after you’ve picked a wave, you’re not guaranteed to catch it.

You may paddle too early and the wave crashes on you, or you may paddle too late and you miss it all together.

Even when everything seems to come together, and you feel the wave’s force behind you, and you feel your speed increase, you still have to stand up.

You push your hands down firmly into the board, lift your body, bring one foot forward, and pop up into a half squat.

You’re about to do it!

You’re about to catch and ride the wave!

And then you fall.

There’s saltwater up your nose. You don’t know which way is up or down. You cover your head to protect it from the rocks below, or your board that’s thrashing around in the whitewash.

You find the surface and take a quick breath before the next wave crashes on top of you and takes you under again.

Once that set of waves has rolled through, you clamour back on your board, and begin to paddle out to start the process again.

Surfing is a weird sport. People often question how anyone can can work for 2 hours when all they get in return is 20 seconds atop a wave.

It’s not the 20 seconds that matter.

It’s the identifying and overcoming of all your ignorances, limitations, errors in judgement, and setbacks that ultimately lead to progress. That’s what it’s about.

A few of my friends diligently track their restaurants, experiences, and locations using Google Maps.

They maintain a ‘Been There’ list, and a ‘Favourites’ list.

After being inspired at how quickly they could remember and recommend experiences from past trips, I thought I’d give it a go too.

I’m now taking photos and leaving reviews for restaurants, services, and natural locations (e.g., beaches, national parks, etc.).

And even after doing it for just a few weeks, my Google Maps is filing up with little green flags and hearts, and I’m very quickly able to re-visit a place and remember the meal or the scenery.

I know this is going to come in handy in the future when I want to remember a trip or a holiday, or I want to recommend an experience to a friend, but I can’t quite recall the detail. I can now just pull up my Google Maps and I’ll be remembering in no time.

I previously blogged about how this flower, against all odds, found a way to grow in the harsh London climate.

Maru and I were walking the desert dunes of Parque Natural de Corralejo today and came across this little guy.

I thought I’d make a thing of posting about these little fighters when I find them.

They’re a great reminder that there’s always a way.

Maru and I love Bon Jovi’s Livin’ on a Prayer.

We don’t play it often, but when we do, there is gut-busting lip syncing happening all round the kitchen.

In my opinion, the song is 80’s magic due to Jon Bon Jovi’s vocal performance; especially the stunning high notes in the choruses. He exhibits a vocal range that few men are able to achieve.

As a fan of the song, I also tried to look up live versions, and when I did, I found something really strange: there are no live performances where Jon Bon Jovi sings the high notes.

None.

Zip.

Nada.

Zero.

Every time it gets to the high notes in the chorus, Jon Bon Jovi holds the mic out for the audience to sing them.

I thought it may be an age thing, as the timbre and richness of a singer’s voice does change as they get older. But even in the live performances from the 80s he doesn’t go for the high notes.

My suspicion is that Jon Bon Jovi—with the magic of a sound engineer and pitch correction—was able to record the song in a studio, but is unable to replicate the performance on a stage.

This got me pondering a larger point: when we create our own products, services, or experiences, do we want to record it right once, or do we want every live performance to be unforgettable at the high notes?

No one warned me about the wind on the Canary Islands, nor did they say anything about Fuerteventura—the island we’re currently on—being the windiest of all.

The beaches and the landscape are stunning, but the wind is brutal.

You can’t read a book at the beach without the pages being caked in sand.

You need to eat your food in a flash or risk a crunchy bite.

Within minutes your bags will be filled with flecks of sand.

However, if you spend all your time trying to stay sand-free, you’re just going to be miserable because you can’t win.

So if you want to have a good time here, you just have to embrace it.

Once you make that mental shift, the sand doesn’t bother you anymore. It’s just part of the deal, and part of the fun.

Maru and I have started calling ourselves Milanesas, which is an Argentine dish of breaded meat—which is what we are after a few hours at the beach.

There’s a nice lesson here for facing other situations in life too.