Dan Cullum

I’m about three months into a tennis obsession and my interest shows no sign of waning (although a friend rightly pointed out that I tend to go deep on a hobby and then emerge just as rapidly as I entered—so I’m not making any bets here on how long this phase may last).

The more I play, the more I appreciate that tennis is one big balancing act. It’s power vs. placement, physical vs. mental, conscious practice vs. being in a state of flow, and hitting winners vs. avoiding unforced errors.

These trade-offs give players a choice as to how they’ll develop their game, and the depth within each trade-off leads to an addicting pursuit of improvement.

You dial a number, someone picks up, and you say, “Hey, it’s me”.

The people who know immediately that it’s you, they’re likely your closest family and friends. That list is likely to be fewer than five people.

It’s not that other people don’t matter, it’s just that the “It’s me” test helps us realise there are some relationships that we have to invest in first.

I loved this thought from Nassim Nicholas Taleb: “Your real body of knowledge maps to the number of your social, moral, ethical, technical, business, financial, culinary, political, and scientific mistakes that you still remember and realize were mistakes.”

I like thinking about the inverse of Taleb’s rule.

How many mistakes have we forgotten?

And how many mistakes do we refuse to recognise as mistakes?

The sum of the above two questions could be classed as “avoidable ignorance”—meaning, we could be smarter, but our own errors of omission have left us in a worse spot.

If you go to a concert, the theatre, or a sports match, it’d be great to see a “world first”. You get to see people at the top of their field perform seemingly miraculous feats.

However, if you go to the doctor, dentist, or optometrist, it’d be a scary proposition if they said you were getting a “world first” treatment that was only available at their clinic.

Context is everything.

Last month I wrote about how Haruki Murakami runs to “acquire a void”.

I was dealing with something tough this morning so I decided to put my reflection into practise.

I put on my running shoes and started moving. No music, no podcasts. I let thoughts come to me, but I let them go. I tried to preserve the void and give my subconscious the space and time to do its work.

I’m not an expert, but I am a student. Trying, toiling, and testing.

Maru and I are going to the Harry Potter Studio Tour this weekend. It’s an activity we’ve always wanted to do but we kept on putting it into the “we live in London so we can do it some other time” bucket. However, we finally bit the bullet and got tickets (they’re often sold out months in advance!).

As part of our build up to the tour, we’re re-watching some of the films; specifically the last four. Some of them are over fifteen years old, but we were both surprised at how well the visual effects have held up. They still feel novel, believable, and fun. Sure, the standard of VFX today is better, but it feels like the rate of improvement has plateaued.

The depth and richness Rowling’s world creation is a joy to delve back into, and we’re really looking forward to peering into the behind the scenes on Sunday.

Every so often a song comes along and ferociously punches you in the gut. Well, Colin Hay’s song ‘I Just Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You’ packed a mighty punch.

It’s piercingly honest, lacks production (in a good way), and is raw. The lyrics are specific and descriptive, and are coupled with a stripped back vocal performance that let them shine. Hay is also playing in an open guitar tuning which adds a rich droning tone to the song.

I love the feeling of finding a song that you immediately know will be on your listening list for many years to come.

H/T to Dan for sharing this song with me on his fleeting visit here in London.

Back in 2012 I remember staying at an AirBnB in Rio de Janeiro and being woken up by a raucous noise. It was the sound of hundreds of children playing in the playground of a local school at 07:30 in the morning.

At the time, I was frustrated. I had no idea I’d booked an AirBnb next to a school, and there was no way I was getting back to sleep.

However, over the course of the week I got used to the sound. In fact it transported me back to my own childhood; scampering around a playground, playing sport on the field, and making my own raucous noise.

I then began to appreciate that the sound of children laughing and playing is a sign of health and vibrancy in our communities. And also how that sound is exactly the same the world over.

We recently moved flats here in London and there are a few schools within ear shot. After my experience in Rio, I now refuse to ever let the raucous noise get to me.

When I learned about opportunity cost in economics, it was just an abstract concept. Sure, I understood that every choice has a next best alternative, but I didn’t see the concept playing out in my day-to-day life.

Almost 20 years on, I’m seeing a pattern that our opportunity costs grow as we get older. We have more commitments and harder trade-offs to deal with across our time, money, and energy. When we say “yes” to anything, we’re also saying “no” to a larger and more valuable set of alternatives.

We’re not going to escape this transition to higher opportunity costs, so it’s our responsibility to put the necessary thought into our trade-off decisions. If we’re not consciously choosing, we’re letting someone else choose for us.

I’ve made the mistake of buying nosebleed theatre tickets one too many time, and each time I’ve regretted it. I can’t see the facial expressions of the actors, and I feel disconnected from what the actors are trying to look out.

So here’s a rule to ensure you get great seats at the theatre: sit close enough to see the spittle.

Actors need to project their voice to fill the space, and inevitably they’re going to spit a bit. If you sit close enough to see the spittle, you’re also going to be able to see every important facial expression, gesture, and subtle onstage action and reaction.

It’ll all adds up to an experience that is worth far more than the premium paid for the better seats.

I recently heard about the idea of “living in a good memory”.

It’s when you’re simultaneously aware that (1) a good thing is happening, and (2) it’s going to become a memory. In that moment, you’re living in a good memory.

One example that comes to mind is our “family moon” after Maru and I got married. I remember consciously soaking up each moment; conscious they would become special memories.

Keep an eye out for “living a good memory” moments, because we can’t make the most of them if we don’t know we’re in one.

Mixed idioms are fun and little bit goofy. It’s when two well known phrases with similar meanings are mixed up—by accident or deliberately.

A few examples:

“Until the cows freeze over.”
(Until the cows come home; until hell freezes over)

“A walk in the cake.”
(A walk in the park; a piece of cake)

“Let’s put the elephant on the table.”
(The elephant in the room; lay your cards on the table)

For the last 2-3 months, I’ve logged every strength and cardio workout in a logbook; except for tennis, which I don’t really count as cardio.

It serves two purposes:

1. It gives me a sense of accomplishment as I see the days and effort stack up
2. It gives me confidence that I know where the baseline is, and how I’m progressing against the target

There is nothing fancy about it. A couple of books and a ballpoint pen. But that’s also the magic of it.

Back in 2019, my sister, brother-in-law, and I played the boardgame Pandemic Legacy. I loved it and wrote about it here.

Legacy style boardgames are like a TV series, whereas typical boardgames are more like films. In Legacy games, there is a storyline that you play over many sittings, and the challenges and plot twists are revealed throughout. Legacy games tend to have a level of depth to the narrative and gameplay mechanics that make it serious fun.

Maru and I have recently started a new legacy game with some close friends: Pandemic Legacy Season 0. It’s pitched as the backstory to the original Pandemic Legacy and has us operating as spies during the Cold War on a mission to prevent a looming bio-threat. We’re all working together and solving problems as a team, which make the wins and the losses all the more exciting.

If you and a small group of friends are already into boardgames, I’d highly recommend trying out a Legacy game. It requires more commitment than a normal boardgames, but its well worth the effort.

The 4-7-8 breathing method is described as a “natural tranquilliser for the nervous system,” by its creator Andrew Weil.

It involves breathing in for 4 seconds, holding your breath for 7 seconds, and breathing out over the course of 8 seconds. And then repeating this 8 times.

It’s easy to find research supporting the benefits of mindful breathing: from anxiety reduction, improved sleep, and lowering blood pressure.

And I’ve found following the 4-7-8 breathing method works really well if I want to relax at the end of a long day, or if I need a moment of quiet during the day.

Give it a go!