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Yesterday evening the UK government put out a call to its people: Volunteer and help our National Health Service (NHS).

They wanted young, fit, and healthy people to volunteer for roles that would see them help the 1.5 million vulnerable people in the UK over the coming 3-4 months.

There were 3 types of support proposed: 1) picking up and delivering essential supplies like food and medicine, 2) taking the vulnerable to and from medical appointments, and 3) offering to call and talk with people who are living alone in self-isolation.

The government had a target of signing up 250,000 volunteers over the course of a few days. Within 24 hours, over 400,000 volunteers had registered.

This outpouring of support from UK residents inspired me. It’s a glimmer of hope and goodwill in a dark time. And it’s a sign that collective altruism is possible.

I signed up to provide (distanced) company to those in self-isolation. And I’m thrilled I get to play a small part in the bigger effort.

Many of us are currently figuring out this Work From Home thing.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to give you, “Dan’s 6 tips for Maximum Productivity when Working From Home.”

That’d be gross.

But I did want to share something I’ve been using with my team—and with friends—to make sure we’re still having fun, despite not being able to see each other in person.

I was introduced to Jackbox Games a few weeks ago. They are a company that build easy-to-play party games for groups. One person buys the software (it’s currently $16), and everyone else just has to have a web browser to play.

They have 6 party packs, each with about 5 games. And after a bit of researching, I found that Party Pack 3 is the best overall bundle.

A game that I particularly like in Party Pack 3 is Quiplash. Each player provides a funny answer to a weird question, and all players then get to vote on which is the best answer. It also a great game to ensure everyone in the team can be involved.

So how did it go? I loaded up the software on my Mac, dialled into a video conference with my team, shared my screen, and each player logged into our specific game with a unique 4 letter code. It was easy and straightforward.

Even though we’re apart, it doesn’t mean we have to miss out on the fun and comedy that comes with working in teams.

During the past 2-3 weeks, I’ve been reflecting on a concept—which I don’t think has a name yet—so for the purpose of this post, I’m going to call it Implicit Decisions.

I’m going to butcher it if I try and explain it in the abstract, so I’m going to use an example.

When the ER doctor decided to pursue a career in medicine—regardless of how long ago that was—they made an implicit decision to be on the frontline if something like the COVID-19 pandemic occurred.

I doubt there was cost-benefit analysis performed by the young student. The bright-eyed optimist was committed—come hell or high water—to look after the sick, irrespective of what brought the patient into the hospital in the first place.

I’m in awe of what healthcare workers around the world are doing to fight this disease. I’m grateful for the courage our police, fire, military, and emergency workers are showing on a daily basis. I admire how our governments are placing priority on human lives above all else.

The people in these roles didn’t sign up for this; it was thrust upon them. However, they all made Implicit Decisions to be here, present, and bold in the event of a crisis.

And with each day that passes, I’m more and more grateful for the work they do.

“Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants.”—Epictetus

Epictetus uttered these words more than 2,000 years ago, and through all the different shades and tides of humanity’s challenges, it continues to be as relevant as ever.

If you’re considering writing more—publicly or privately, and especially during this time—I hope this post helps you.

Last year, a friend shared with me this quote from Clive Thompson’s book ‘Smarter Than You Think,’ which has helped me on my journey.

“I’d argue that the cognitive shift in going from an audience of zero (talking to yourself), to an audience of ten people (a few friends or random strangers checking out your online post), is so big that it’s actually huger than going from ten people to a million people.”

The critical mass of readers required for great conversations is lower than you think.

A handful of people is all you need.

You just need a few people who are willing to tell you when you’re wrong, to tell you when you write something that resonates, to tell you that you missed the point, or to tell you that you sound too much like a Hallmark Card (thanks, Kevin!).

My first thirty days of blogging—where I did it in complete secrecy and didn’t share it with anyone—was lonely. But as I opened up, regardless of the quality of my posts, it has allowed me to meet a group of unique, positive, and insightful people.

Whether it’s on a blog, in an email, or even a Whatsapp message, your thoughts and words can be meaningful to someone.

Heck, if you’re worried, send it to me. I’m at the very beginning of a lifelong journey of writing. I’ll cheer you on.

I only started drinking coffee when I began full-time work.

I was 22, and I’d just moved to Melbourne; a destination coffee pilgrims consider as a holy site. Its tucked-away lanes and suburban streets are packed with cafes. It’s common to find a young, tattooed barista pumping out pour-overs, lattes, flat whites, and fancy filtered coffee.

I became a coffee snob. It was the first time I had enough disposable income to get one (or three) cups per day from the overpriced cafe across the road.

A few years later, however, when I decided to sail the Mississippi, I was no longer working full-time, so I needed to save every penny.

In a moment—literally overnight—I switched to instant coffee. I still got my caffeine hit every day, but at a 95%+ discount.

In the hidden depths of my mind—because I wasn’t willing to share it publicly—I wore it like a badge of honour. I was proud that I could forego a luxury for a bigger goal.

And although there’s an espresso machine at work (which I use when I’m not social distancing!), at home I still have a jar filled with instant coffee.

I still enjoy the smell and taste, but I also love what it represents. It’s unique to me and my story, and that’s what makes it special.

People don’t usually think about postponing their wedding.

Getting married is a pretty binary decision. It’s usually, “Yes, I do,” or, “No, I don’t.”

When Maru and I found ourselves faced with a growing amount of coronavirus evidence over the past 2 weeks, we each had a growing suspicion that our 18th of April wedding in Argentina was looking less likely by the day.

It took a while for us to get to the point where we were willing to consider the thought, “Shall we postpone?”

We ended up sitting down and asking ourselves 3 questions:

1. Could we guarantee that all of our guests would be safe during our wedding?
2. Could we anticipate the situation to improve significantly over the next few weeks?
3. Could we ask our guests to travel two weeks ahead of time to self-isolate? (Which are the current self-isolation-upon-arrival rules in Argentina)

The answer for all of these questions was a resounding, “No!”

But we were hampered by doubts. What would this mean for our guests and their travel plans? What would this mean for all the plans we’d made with our vendors? Would people come in a year’s time?

Despite these doubts, we pushed ahead and postponed. Within a week, our decision was justified. Argentina closed all borders to foreigners, and flights from the UK and New Zealand were cancelled.

Strangely, the feeling we had after making the decision wasn’t anguish, but rather relief.

The build up to postponing was painful, but knowing we would be keeping our loved ones out of harm’s way—by not hosting a large event—gave us peace.

The pill has been a little easier to swallow due to the overwhelming support we’re received from our family and friends. Let’s just say, everyone understands the current situation.

We also took time to pause, be grateful, and think of others. As there are many families around the world experiencing life-altering pain and loss at this moment.

Finally, we chose to see the good. We didn’t postpone our wedding, we just extended our engagement.

Simone is one of my good friends here in London. We worked together at Bulb, and have spent the past 3 years playing amateur poker games and swapping book recommendations.

However, it was only today that I learnt about his hidden talent.

He’s a talented accordionist, and even better, he plays niche accordion that only exists in his region of Italy. It has no keys.

I love learning about the hidden talents of my friends. We learn wonderful things—and the world is better for it—when we’re willing to share.

Enjoy!

Yesterday I asked for your thoughts on “where to from here?” for this blog.

I was trying to answer: do I write a lot about coronavirus during this extended period of social distancing? Or do I continue to write about what I’m reading and learning?

I shared my fear that we’re already being bombarded with coronavirus news, so it’d be unhelpful for me to join that party. But I also reflected on how it felt trivial to write about anything else when humanity is facing such a large challenge.

So I asked you!

And you delivered!

I received 12 generous and thoughtful emails that gave me clarity.

What did I hear from you?

Overwhelmingly, I should stay away from coronavirus focused updates or commentary; there is already enough of that in the news, podcasts, and Op-Eds.

However, many commented that my reflections that come as a result of coronavirus are welcomed. On that theme, a number of you asked questions like:

• What are you doing to become a better person during this period of social distancing?
• How this has shifted your perspective on what matters most?
• Do you think this changes the future of working? Is it remote, a mix, or something entirely different?
• How has social distancing affected your mental and physical health? And what are you’re doing to address it?
• How are you using your time?
• If you’re living with a partner, what has all this time at home with them been like?
• What are you curious about in a time like this?
• Could you review and recommend books for us to read?

Finally, about half of you explicitly said you’d like to hear more about what I’m reading and learning; so I’ll make sure I do that!

Current candidates are 1) getting good at the ukulele, 2) understanding stoic philosophy, 3) digesting the wit and wisdom of Charlie Munger, or 4) learning how to cut my own hair (I’ve always wanted to try this!).

So, let’s go there!

I’m not going to shy away from talking about the coronavirus, as it’s set to play a big role in our lives this year. However, when I do mention it, I’ll make sure it’s relevant to my specific situation and what I’m learning throughout the experience.

Through it all, though, this blog will continue with its ambition to be positive, thoughtful, and generous in each post. Uplifting beats depressing.

Finally, a big thank you to all who responded

It made my day to receive your replies. Thank you for taking the time to let me know your thoughts. You’re one of the reasons why daily writing is so rewarding.

See you tomorrow!

All the data suggests coronavirus is going to significantly impact our lives over the next 3-6 months.

I hope this will mostly be in the form of social distancing—or extended periods of time spent at home and indoors.

This leads me to a question: what should I do with this blog?

I started writing as a way to reflect on my daily observations and learnings. So if I stick to form, my reflections on coronavirus will appear in a lot in these posts.

But I know we’re all being bombarded with virus news and opinions. And I have a feeling that some of you don’t want yet another voice spouting on about the pandemic; especially one that isn’t an expert’s opinion.

An alternative would be to share more of what I’m reading and learning about—which I’m deliberately keeping away from coronavirus topics. But that also feels a little trivial considering what were collectively up against.

The great thing is I can ask for you opinion.

When you think about these daily posts, what would you like to see from me as this whole thing unfolds?

I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts!

In 2018, I learnt about Jeff Bezos’ classification of decisions into two types: Type 1, and Type 2.

A Type 1 decision is a big, strategic decision that is hard to turn back from—think of it like a one way door. An example of this could be quitting your job to start a business.

Whereas a Type 2 decision is an everyday operating decision; these are typically reversible. An example of this could be trying a new way to plan upcoming projects with your team.

This classification has transformed the way I make decisions in the workplace and at home.

Perhaps the biggest mindset shift is the realisation that most decisions are Type 2, meaning they have far less importance than we often place upon them.

This is liberating.

If we can understand if a decision is Type 2, it allows us to experiment, to be bold, and to try, when maybe we wouldn’t have had the confidence to do so otherwise.

The violin requires precision. Your fingers need to be in exactly the right place to hit the right note. Even the slightest deviation will see you veer off key.

Whereas a guitar has frets, which are little metal bars that sit on its neck. As long as a guitarists fingers land between one fret and another, the string will connect with the fret, and the note will be accurate.

One isn’t better or worse than the other; they’re simply playing different games.

Although violin can lead an orchestra with its melodies, the guitar can put together rich chords using all 6-strings at once.

Sometimes we lament what we can and can’t do.

Maybe we’re just made to play a different song.

Our world’s coronavirus situation has changed dramatically in the last 48 hours.

You’ll have read the news—or at least you’ll have access to it—so there’s no need for me to rehash that information here.

However, there is one thing I’d like to focus on today: why you should practise social distancing, and why you should see it as a duty, not an option.

What is social distancing?

I like the way a doctor of a major hospital in Italy described it in Newsweek Magazine, “My personal as well as professional view: we all have a duty to stay put, except for very special reasons, like, you go to work because you work in healthcare, or you have to save a life and bring someone to hospital, or go out to shop for food so you can survive. But when we get to this stage of a pandemic, it’s really important not to spread the bug. The only thing that helps is social restriction.”

Why is it important?

When someone catches coronavirus, they will likely only feel mild symptoms, but 15-20% of the population will need hospitalisation, and 5% of the population will need ICU treatment.

Our global healthcare infrastructure is not equipped to deal with such a large volume of patients. Thus, we need to minimise the number of people with the disease at any one point in time so our hospitals and brave healthcare workers don’t break.

This article, written by the doctor mentioned above, sets out the logic of why staying at home—and thereby reducing the spread of coronavirus—is so important for all of us to do.

Why do some people think social distancing = overreacting?

As Nassim Nicholas Taleb puts it, social distancing is rational at a systemic level (i.e., at a country or global level), but irrational at an individual level (e.g., a young healthy 40 year old with no pre-existing conditions).

Most people in the population will be mildly impacted by coronavirus. That’s why it feels weird for some to be taking these precautions.

Why do I care about it?

I have family members who fall into the at risk categories.

Almost all of us do, or at least know someone who does.

Don’t do it for you, do it for them.

P.S. If you’re look for an excellent data driven perspective on coronavirus, the logic behind social distancing, and what’s likely to come, this article is excellent.

Some days, the world moves a little faster than we can handle.

And that’s okay.

Life becomes easier when we realise the expectation to “keep up” is self-imposed.

It’s okay to move at your own pace.

If you’re going to play devil’s advocate, do it properly.

Playing devil’s advocate is expressing an opinion you may not agree with but is different to what other people have been saying, to challenge the thinking of the group.

The true power of the tool is to help us think differently.

However, its power is lost when we use it to introduce our own point of view rather than improve the group’s perspective on a topic.