For whatever project we’re currently working, we need to figure out if we’re baking or cooking.
Baking requires precision. You need to follow the steps exactly. That means the right quantities, ingredients, temperatures, and timings. Cooking, on the other hand, is more improv. You can substitute, adapt, add, experiment, and taste along the way.
Both lead to great tasting outcomes, but get there in different ways.
Problems are everywhere.
In our jobs. In our relationships with friends and family. In our hobbies. In life admin.
We can’t solve them all though. There aren’t enough hours in a day.
So we need to choose the problems worth turning up for.
The rest can wait.
Seeing the sun in London at 5pm in March means the end of winter is coming, and we’ll soon be welcoming spring and summer.
I love when this day arrives each year. Although it’s not marked by a date or an occasion, it’s a very peasant surprise, and a realisation that the worst of the winter is behind us.
It hints at warmer days to come, and long sunny evenings with friends.
I inevitably end up writing a post about this day each year. But after a long winter, I feel it’s well deserved.
I was sitting at a traffic light today, and cars were backed up for at least 50 metres on each side of the road waiting for the lights to turn green.
Up ahead and in the distance, I heard the sound of an ambulance approaching. I saw its lights reflecting off cars and buildings before it arrived at the backed-up line of cars.
The traffic lights in front of me turned green, but no car moved. All of us remained in place, allowing the ambulance to use both sides of the road to weave through and get past the gridlock with ease.
Systems are typically designed with order being the base case or day-to-day expectation. But when there is an emergency and the system is under stress, it only works when everyone knows the rules. And crucially, when everyone know how to implement the rules in unison.
I was on the train to Birmingham earlier today, and as the train passed through a bunch of towns just outside London, the carriage filled up with football fans. Specifically fans of the Wolverhampton Wolves, who were on their way to the FA Cup Quarter Final happening later that day.
It was like being dropped into another world. They talked enthusiastically about player transfers, manager performance, and budget constraints. They debated the pros and cons of their team’s current strategy; offering ideas for how it could be better. They compared themselves to other teams, and tried to figure out why some teams were succeeding and others failing. They chatted with friends and strangers alike with openness and a hopeful energy for the game ahead.
Once we pulled into Birmingham, the fans peeled off in one direction, and I in another. But for a brief moment on that train, I got a fascinating glimpse into the world of a Wolves fan, and I get why people return week after week, year after year, to support their club.
When we follow our curiosity, we often have endless energy to learn, explore, and grow.
But when we have little interest in what we’re doing, it takes immense will power to just show up.
There is a world of work, personal projects, and hobbies out there. What would happen if we optimised more deliberately around our curiosity? What would be different?
Maru and I are moving flats at the end of this month. Our landlord is selling, and we’re reluctantly leaving the place we’ve called home for almost four years.
We got lucky with this one. Given how flat London is, there aren’t many spots with views of the skyline. We have an unobstructed view of the city and get to see stunning sunsets when London decides to not be overcast.
Maru has always been good at pausing and admiring the view. I’m trying to join her in this good habit. The benefit we get from that little pause far outweighs the minimal cost incurred.
The base price is rarely a problem. It’s the customisation that costs us.
It doesn’t matter if it’s a memory upgrade for your Mac, the add-ons for your home renovation, a client that wants a bespoke feature added to the software, or a tailor-made suit. It all adds up.
But sometimes, it’s the customisation that makes the thing magical. And sometimes, that magic is worth the cost.
Measuring growth on a daily basis is futile. Progress is imperceptible.
Give it a few months, however, and we start to see the fruits of our patient, consistent effort.
The photo below is of one of my terrariums taken in October 2023; with Spock sitting comfortably in the middle.
This is the same terrarium in March 2024, with Spock now enshrouded in moss and plants.
Why are sequels usually worse than their originals?
Survivorship bias.
Out of all the films produced in a given year, only the best get a shot at a sequel. So when comparing the success of a sequel to an original, the “bar” is a comparison against the best, not the average.
There is a graveyard of less successful films that never got a chance at a sequel.
Last month I floated the idea of trying cuisines from all 195 countries in alphabetical order. And I’m happy to say that Maru and I have decided to try it. Assuming we stay in London, we figure it’ll take us around 4 years or so to get through the entire list.
First up was Afghanistan, and we tried Ariana II in Kilburn. We ordered aushak for our starter which is an Afghan version of dumplings typically containing leeks and scallions. The texture and filling were both great and I especially liked the yoghurt sauce.
For our mains we shared a Kabuli pulao with a lamb kofta kebab and chicken curry. The pulao is Afghanistan’s national dish and is comprised of steamed rice, caramelised carrots, and raisins. The rice paired really well with the lamb and curry.
We played Afghan folk music whilst we read up on the country. It was nice to learn about attributes that don’t get covered in the often negative news cycles. For example, neither Maru nor I knew the main languages were Dari and Pashto, nor did we know that it is home to the oldest oil paintings in the world.
Next up, Albania!
Note: I’m also testing to see if writing about each cuisine adventure is something I want to do. I haven’t written about food before, and I don’t want to resort to just saying everything is “delicious”. We’ll keep up the project, but let me know if you find anything about this post particularly interesting!
When driving from A to B, most of the time we need to look forward. But to get there safely, it’s essential that we regularly look in our rearview mirror to be aware of other drivers and hazards on the road.
It’s a great metaphor for any big, hard, or complex project we’re working on. Most of the focus is forward, but we need to keep an eye on what else is going on around us.
I’ve written about Jacob Collier multiple times before (1) (2) (3). He’s a once-in-a-generation musical talent, who bends and breaks the rules of music with ease.
Most of Collier’s songs make me scratch my head in a what-the-heck-is-going-on-here kind of way. Yet at the same time, his sweet and simple melodies make him a joyous listen.
He recently released ‘Djesse Vol. 4’ and I find this album more accessible—and more poppy—than previous records. In particular, I’m enjoying ‘She Put Sunshine’, ‘Little Blue’, and the cover of ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’.
I’m also thrilled that Maru and I have tickets to go see him at the O2 later this year! He does a lot of audience participation and has the whole crowd singing different parts of his songs. I can’t wait to see what he does in front of thousands of fans in his hometown.
In video games there is usually the main quest, and then there are side quests. Side quests “deviate from the main plot and are not required to complete the game”.
The purpose of the side quest is to elevate the overall experience of the game by providing fun and variety outside of the main story.
In life, it’s easy to get preoccupied with our main quest. But the side quests fill our lives with adventure, spontaneity, and surprise. Why not be be open to more of them?
I like to schedule my blog posts one day in advance. It means that if I ever forget to post, I never risk breaking the daily writing streak.
Every so often, I’ll have a busy day and not have the energy to write a post. If that happens, I still go to bed relaxed because I know I have a buffer and will be able to “catch up” tomorrow.
However, on the odd occasion I won’t write the second post, and I fall into a rhythm of writing and posting on the same day.
When this happens, I’ve noticed that it leads to some nervousness. I worry about what my topic for the day will be. The ideas and writing feel more forced because there is a time pressure. I especially dislike sitting down to write a same-day post late at night when I’m already tired.
Getting back on an advanced posting schedule makes a huge difference. I find I’m more curious and open to what the world has to share with me. I feel relaxed to experiment and try topics because I know that if I end up not liking a post, I can always change it tomorrow—although I almost never do.
There is a mental freedom that comes with being one day and one step ahead. True for blogs, and I’m sure many other things.