Dan Cullum

If you didn’t know there was a second act, you’d lament the fortune of the lead character.

Thankfully, the intermission is just a short break.

So don’t walk out after the first act—a first attempt at something new, the first milestone in a larger project, or a first impression of a stranger.

After the intermission comes the second act, and the resolution.

“I’m certain.”

“I’m probably right.”

“I’m likely wrong.”

“I’m just guessing.”

When everyone has an opinion, listen carefully to the folks who are open about their doubts, and be wary of the people who claim certainty.

It’s been 4 years of daily writing!

Thank you for joining me on this journey. I love receiving your replies—the cheeky ones, the ones that tell me I’m wrong, and the ones where you let me know a post has been helpful. It means a tonne!

I’ll be honest, I’ve found the last year of writing harder than the first three. At times I’ve questioned my own motivations and whether I want to continue.

I don’t like doing anything half-heartedly, but I also think it’s natural for motivation to ebb and flow over a four year period. It’s ultimately a commitment and aspirational discipline that’s kept me going at times when I didn’t want to.

My formula hasn’t changed since day one though: show up, be curious, notice things, and share them in the most generous way possible.

Let’s keep going!

When you’re on shore, you can look at the forecast, you can see the grey clouds rolling in, and you can make a decision to stay on land or venture out.

When you’re out at sea and far from land, no matter the size of the swell, the lashing wind, or the brewing storm, you need to sail through.

Most of life’s decisions are made from shore. But there will be a few moments and situations where we’re far out at sea. Knowing whether we’re on shore or at sea has a big impact on how we act.

In particular, we don’t need to press on when we don’t have to. There’ll be another day with clear skies.

If you go searching for it, you’ll find someone who will give you a free pass.

They’ll tell you what you want to hear. They’ll say it’s OK to give up, that the game was unfair, or that you were just unlucky.

But don’t let someone else make the decision for you. If you want to give up, make sure it’s your decision. When we don’t accept the free pass, we’re able to tap into a reserve of energy and grit that increases the chances that we might succeed.

I tried sheer yakh for the first time today. It’s a churned-to-order Afghan ice cream made from milk, condensed milk, and cardamom.

A friend took us to Sundae Gelato in Harrow and I had the Jala version which is Sheer yakh served with rice noodles. It was rich and refreshing, reminding me a lot of Malaysian cendol.

It’s a good weekend when a friend introduces you to something you’d never try otherwise and you love it!

The iPhone gives us access to any song at any moment via a Spotify or Apple Music subscription. Despite the convenience of the iPhone, I sometimes get iPod nostalgia.

I received my first iPod almost 20 years ago, and I still remember the feeling of that second hand 4th generation iPod Classic arriving in the post. I thought it was the most beautiful product I’d ever seen, and the fact it could hold more than 5,000 songs blew my mind.

My trusty iPod that came with me everywhere. Although it wasn’t the entire universe of music at my fingertips, it was my universe of music at my fingertips. It was my antidote to boredom, and a little world that provided a musical escape throughout my teens.

The effect of some products never leave us.

It’s already spilt.

Likely on the counter, probably on the floor.

Any time spent complaining just gives the milk more time to settle in to the crevices.

It’s frustrating at the time, but it’s never that bad in hindsight. We just need to roll up our sleeves and methodically mop up the mess.

True for milk, and many other pesky day-to-day problems.

It took longer than planned. It was harder than we thought. It was more complex than we anticipated. It was more costly than what was budgeted.

Something will always go wrong. That comes with the territory of doing hard, meaningful things. If the unexpected is the norm, the good thing is we can condition ourselves and our teams for this outcome because it happens so regularly.

On my morning cycle, I pass through a small side street. There is usually a flock of pigeons eating a pile of seeds and grain scattered on the ground.

I didn’t think much of it until today. But someone out there is thinking about those pigeons. They plan ahead and buy the food. And they reliably venture out every day to make sure the pigeons are fed. They likely act thinking no one notices, but I did. And their kindness makes me smile.

The pigeons always get fed.

If this topic is ice cream, over the past few months I’ve written about its many different flavours. But at the end of the day, it’s still all ice cream.

I’ve recently found myself working through some particularly ambiguous problems. When the problems don’t have an obvious answer, it’s easy to procrastinate, and in the worst case, fall into inertia.

When I sense a tough problem coming up, I try to get something down on paper on the first day. Sometimes it’s a scribble on a physical piece of paper. Other times it’s a rough but structured set of thoughts in a Google Doc. I try to give my best answer on day one, and make highlights and comments on all the things that I’ve probably got wrong and need to think through in more detail.

Then I sleep.

I trust that tomorrow’s brain is going to turn up and have something meaningful to contribute. I trust that my subconscious is going to have worked overnight to process the problem. I also trust my co-workers and let them in on the work in progress. I let their feedback guide, push, and challenge the work.

Rarely does something truly important need to be completed in a few hours. Creating space and time for the subconscious to work, trusting tomorrow’s brain, and the brains of others, is a high probability way to root out any logical errors in our work.

So I started training Jiu-Jitsu about a month ago.

I deliberately haven’t written about it until now for multiple reasons. One, I wanted to see if I enjoyed it enough to commit and continue. Second, my big boss has recently been in the media for taking up the sport and for potentially having an MMA match versus Elon. I didn’t want it to seem like I was copying Zuck.

The truth is I always wanted to practise a martial art when I was a child, but there was always a stigma in our house around martial arts being too violent. However, a friend recently shared that they’d started Jiu-Jitsu to improve their mobility as a compliment to their strength and cardiovascular training. Mobility, or a lack thereof, is something that’s been on my mind over the last few years, so I decided to research a few local gyms.

I’m thrilled with the gym I’ve found. It’s close to home, and the head professor is a former World and European champion. They’ve got a great curriculum for learning the basics to this infinitely complex sport, have a supportive environment, and are beginner friendly.

One of the other reasons why I chose Jiu-Jitsu is because it isn’t a striking based martial art. I’m not interested in punching or kicking another human, nor am I interested in them punching or kicking me. Jiu-Jitsu instead is a grappling sport that’s intended to help a smaller person be able to defend, protect, and survive against a bigger opponent. That’s definitely something I want to learn how to do.

I’m still very early in my journey, and I’m not committing yet to training for the long haul. But I’m enjoying it for the moment and intend to continue.

UK summers are special. There’s so much going on it’s hard to choose where to go and what to do.

There are music festivals every weekend. Fun runs and park sports events are aplenty—today I saw hundreds of people downtown running the London Landmark 10k. This weekend we had the Ashes, the British Grand Prix, and Wimbledon all happening at the same time. And the pubs and restaurants overflow with patrons, many of them enjoying their food and drink in sun. Everyone is happy and in a good mood.

It’s a special time of year, and one I don’t take for granted.

The root of the word amateur isn’t hobbyist, or non-professional, or inept, or unskilled.

It’s derived from the Latin word ‘amare’, which means to love.

The amateur, above all else, pursues the sport, the art, or the activity, for the love of it.

Whether it’s a run, a weights session, or a solo or team sport, try and end the workout with some gas left in the tank.

If there’s nothing left in the tank, the chance of an injury towards the end of our workouts is much higher than if we have a little in reserve.

For most of us, the goal isn’t to win today, it’s to be able to turn up tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.