Dan Cullum

Maru and I went to Secret Cinema yesterday, and it did not disappoint.

The idea is simple: imagine stepping into your favourite film, dressing up as one of the cast, and participating in the story.

“Casino Royale”, “Moulin Rouge”, “The Grand Budapest Hotel”, “Romeo and Juliet”, and “Back to the Future” are some of the films they’ve re-created for live audiences.

The whole point of Secret Cinema is for it to be, well, secret. So out of respect for their work and for future potential Secret Cinema goers, I won’t go into the specifics about our Casino Royale adventure, but I do have two reflections on the overall experience:

1. Elaborate events that exist solely for fun are a wondrous thing. I’m guilty of trying to fill most of my time with the “practical”, “effective”, and “efficient”, and the Secret Cinema experience was a healthy break from that.
2. Attention to detail at scale is really hard, and really impressive. The creation of multiple worlds and storylines, filled with realistic actors, shows the immense depth of thought behind the experience. It shows how much pride and care the creators place in giving participants an unforgettable experience.

These two reflections left me with one overriding thought: if you’re going to do anything, anything at all, you might as well do it well.

One way I keep up the daily blogging streak is by writing one day ahead.

For example, my ideal day-to-day workflow is:

• Monday: write Tuesday’s post
• Tuesday: review and publish Tuesday’s post
• Wednesday: early in the morning, Tuesday’s post is picked up via RSS feed and sent out to subscribers via Feedblitz

I don’t always write and post to this rhythm, but when I do, I avoid the in-day stress of needing to produce something under time pressure.

Without this pressure, my mind is at ease and is better able to explore ideas to write about.

At that point, it’s fun rather than an obligation. Which is an important requirement of mine to make this blogging habit worth it.

The interesting thing is the volume of output (a post per day) is the same regardless of the workflow I choose. But the daily writing experience is significantly better when the posts are ready one day ahead.

This concept can also be applied to other areas of our lives. A simple example is my mornings are much better if I pack my bag for work the night before.

Could any of your activities benefit from being done, or prepared for, one day ahead?

When we’re faced with a tough decision, a typical reaction is to 1) seek advice from others, and then 2) analyse which path to take.

However, we eventually need to leave the shelter of others’ advice and make a decision for which we alone will be responsible.

That’s scary.

Its scary because it’s comforting and reassuring to lean on the advice of others.

But placing reliance on others only gives the illusion we made a decision.

Setting clear limits for our reliance, and knowing when to assume full responsibility for a decision, is essential to being able to live with any outcome.

Have you ever forgotten to charge your phone before leaving home, so you plug it in for 10-15 minutes, hoping it’ll have enough juice to get you through the day?

When in low-battery mode, we only use our phone for essential activities, such as navigation or important messages.

This may work for a day, but if repeated day after day, we end up with 2 problems: 1) we don’t get to use our phone’s full capabilities, and 2) it harms the long term health of the battery.

A phone is replaceable, but when we apply this concept to our lives, specifically our minds and bodies, it takes on a new meaning.

Consistently refusing rest and rejuvenation by getting “just enough charge” is unhelpful and unhealthy in the long term.

It’s not sometimes, it’s regularly, that we need a full recharge.

I recently came across this profound and pithy idea: whatever you’re not changing, you’re choosing.

It’s a challenging reminder to think just as hard about inaction as we do action.

The power of this idea is in its broad applicability.

For example, it’s applicable to our diet and exercise habits, to tough decisions in the work place, and even through to how we respond to large-scale social justice issues, like the Climate Crisis.

Even if we convince ourselves we’re not choosing, we still are.

H/T Laurie Buchanan

As London drizzled during my walk home last night, I saw a drenched food-delivery driver race by on his moped.

On rainy evenings, the demand for food-delivery increases.

At the same time, food-delivery riders choose not to work due to dangerous conditions and the high probability of being cold and wet for hours on end.

It’s the gig economy version of Newton’s Third Law of Motion: every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

High demand for food delivery and a low supply of delivery riders creates tension.

To ease this tension, food-delivery companies react in three ways, 1) they charge an additional fee (surge pricing) for each delivery to artificially lower demand, 2) they offer wet-weather bonuses to drivers to keep up delivery productivity, and 3) they make consumers wait longer for their food.

But no matter how hard these companies try, when it rains, no one wins. Not the customers, riders, or the food-delivery companies.

With our own products and services, we may not be able to avoid some lose-lose situations either. But it’s better to know they exist, attempt to anticipate them, and have avoidance strategies in place for when they hit.

“Never ask the barber if you need a haircut” is a popular saying from legendary investor, Warren Buffett.

When making decisions, it’s natural to look to the advice, experience, and expertise of others to help us form our judgements.

But we should remember to scrutinise both 1) the advice itself, and 2) the credibility of the advice giver.

We often forget number 2 and treat all advice equally.

In the case of the barber, it’s easy to see the connection between the “you should get a hair cut” recommendation and the barber’s monthly pay check.

However, in most situations, the conflict of interest is not so clear cut. But simply being aware of it can help improve the quality of our decision making.

I arrived at work this morning to these pears.

Small. Odd. Weird.

But wonderful.

These pears are from Oddbox, a company that buys the produce that big-chain supermarkets won’t accept. They then package and deliver direct-to-consumer or to businesses, like Bulb.

I had no idea that the UK throws out over 3 million tonnes (£4 billion worth) of produce per year; just because it doesn’t conform to a specific shape or size.

That’s nuts! In fact, it’s enough food to feed 20,000 people for a year.

Oddbox refuses to accept the “this is the way it’s always been” excuse. With some common sense, good branding, and some smart logistics, they’re doing something to make things better.

Here’s to them.

In the last two months since I’ve started daily blogging, one of the questions I’ve received is, “How do you find the time to write something everyday?”

So I thought I’d share one specific change I’ve made to my daily habits to create time for writing.

When I started daily blogging, I looked at how I spent my time each day, and tried to shift moments of consumption into moments of creation.

When on the tube heading into work, instead of trying to listen to music over the screeching of London’s northern line, I ditch the headphones, reflect on the previous day, and note some ideas down on my phone.

I used to skip my lunch break, but I now take 15 minutes once I’ve finished my meal to build on what I wrote that morning.

Finally, when I get home, I’ve replace what used to be Netflix time with wrapping up the blog post for the day, and getting into bed a little earlier with a book.

I realised it was so easy to be in a constant state of consumption, and I have simply tried to balance some of that with deliberate creation time.

I’m also just happy to be putting original content out into the world again. This blog is the first time since vlogging on the Mississippi that I’ve been publicly sharing ideas, and the meaningful email conversations I’ve had with readers to date have made it all worth it.

I recently came across this great Twitter thread started by Y Combinator Chairman, Sam Altman.

What advice seems obviously right, is relatively easy to follow, and is usually ignored?

— Sam Altman (@sama) June 3, 2019

It’s odd how the best advice is often so simple that it’s ignored. Maybe it’s because the advice seems boring, or that it is hard to keep up simple and good habits.

I’ve been reflecting on this phenomenon in the last few months, and have written about it before in take the stairs, and eat more veggies. No doubt it will be something I’ll continue to think and blog about in future.

I hope you enjoy reading through the ideas in Sam’s thread.

A local cafe near work had a broken card machine this morning.

Scrappily printed “Cash Only” signs were stuck to the entrance door and to the tills.

Realising I had no cash on me, I slowly began to turn around and leave when the manager asked me, “Do you work around here?”

As I nodded, and he replied with, “Well, why don’t you take what you need and come back later to pay?”

No questions asked.

When things go wrong, someone gets to allocate responsibility and risk.

Today, the manager could have passed the broken card machine burden to me. However, he chose to assume responsibility and take the risk that I wouldn’t come back to pay. The funny thing is he earned more trust from me today than if the card machine was working perfectly.

Even if it’s broken, there are still opportunities to build trust.

This links back to a previous post about taking it on the chin.

One of my blogging inspirations, Rohan Rajiv, came out with a post today curating his top 5 articles on the Climate Crisis.

I’ve been searching for a while now for a well-rounded and balanced list of articles and resources on this topic, so I’m thrilled Rohan has put this together.

Rohan summarises that 1) our understanding of our global environmental situation has matured immensely in the past 2 years, and 2) our reality is in fact so grave it is necessary to update “Climate Change” in our lexicon to “Climate Crisis”.

I realised that even though I’ve worked in renewable energy for the past 3 years, my understanding of humanity’s impact on the planet has likely become outdated.

This has inspired me to set aside time this weekend to delve into these resources.

If you’re interested, I hope you will too.

Happy reading!

Most of us don’t need a reminder on how to ride a bike. It’s natural and automatic.

It’s muscle memory.

However, unlike breathing, which is done subconsciously from birth, riding a bike is a learned skill, and that distinction is important.

It’s an activity that, at one point, we found hard and awkward. But with time and effort, it became natural and part of our subconscious.

So if we have a formula for turning hard things into automatic actions, why should we stop at cycling?

What if we worked to develop muscle memory in other parts of our lives?

What about active listening? Rather than thinking up a reply while the other person is talking, we focus with intent on what they are trying to say.

What about asking “Why?” when faced with a complicated problem? Rather than jumping straight into solution mode, we first pause and seek to understand why we’re in our current situation before we act.

What about a daily gratefulness practice? Rather than ploughing through the day like we’ve got an endless supply, we take a second to be thankful for the current moment.

For me, I’ve been experimenting with muscle memory through daily blogging. It’s been two months since I started, and perhaps the biggest impact it’s had on my life is how it has forced me to be more open, attentive, and curious. It’s forced me to notice what’s going on in the world around me, and to try and share what I see in a thoughtful and generous way.

Is there a muscle memory experiment you’d like to run? I’d love to hear about your experience if you try it!

New Zealand’s Rugby World Cup campaign kicked-off today with a scintillating match against South Africa. As the two teams tipped to meet in the final, to see them play against each other in their first Pool match was a real treat.

What stood out to me in the build-up to this match was an amazing quote given by All Black’s coach, Steve Hansen.

The most important thing for any team is you turn up with attitude and intent. When you have that you can express your talent.

It’s not always going to go your way, but if you don’t turn up with the right attitude and intent, a good team is going to give you a punch on the nose and hurt you. You can’t just turn up… you have to build it and slowly get clarity of your game.

What you want is the execution of the stuff you’ve been working on, and you’ve got to stay clear-headed, and not get over-excited or under-excited, but stay in the zone mentally.

Attitude and intent is a game played in the top two inches. A clear mind, steely determination, and grounded self-confidence are needed for the natural talent to emerge.

Upon reflection, this model of thinking isn’t reserved for elite sportspeople. In our professional and personal lives, we’re constantly faced with challenges that require us to persuade, debate, re-think, re-frame, and improve.

The attitude and intent we bring to each of these moments matters.

As taller buildings started going up in the early days of the industrial revolution, many of them began to include lifts. But instead of receiving praise for transporting people up many flights of stairs, the lifts were criticised for being too slow.

Hearing their customer complaints, the lift companies got to work trying to build a faster product. The problem was faster lifts required better pulleys and larger motors, which made the costs untenable.

It wasn’t until an engineer re-framed the problem that a solution was found.

What if the speed of the lift isn’t the problem?

What if traveling in a lift just feels like a long time because all you can do is stare at the wall and think about being suspended in mid-air?

This line of thinking led to an idea: what if we installed a mirror?

Once mirrors were installed, people became distracted during the journey and the complaints disappeared. People even commented on how fast the new lifts were, even though their speed had not changed.

Re-framing the problem saved a lot of money whilst also improving the customer experience.

It’s a nice reminder for us to look at our personal and professional challenges from multiple angles before investing in a (potentially) costly solution.