The Simplicity(simˈplisədē) of Discipline(ˈdisəplən)

By Leo Babauta

The things we want to be disciplined at are actually fairly simple in a lot of ways.

We want to be consistent with the journaling habit, or meditation, or exercise? Just start, as simply as possible. Do that again the next day. If you miss a day, no problem — just start again. Over and over.

All of the problems of habits start to go away when we drop expectations. We can start to appreciate doing the habit, in this moment, instead of being so concerned(kənˈsərnd) with how it will turn out in the future.

It’s very simple, when we drop the expectations.

A daily writing habit becomes as simple as picking up the writing tool and doing it, without any expectation that it be any good or that people love it.

A daily exercise habit becomes as simple as putting your shoes on, going outside, and going for a walk or a run or a hike(hīk) or a bodyweight workout. You don’t need fancy(ˈfansē) equipment, the perfect program, or a membership to anything. You just start moving, as simply as possible.

Of course, we have all kinds of hangups when it comes to exercise, or writing, or eating. These come from years of beating(ˈbēdiNG) ourselves up (or getting judged by others, and internalizing(inˈtərnlˌīz) those judgments). We can stop beating ourselves up the moment we drop expectations. Then, without the layers of self-judgment, we can simply get moving.

Every time we “fail” at a habit, we get discouraged. Because of expectations. What if we dropped any expectation that we be perfect at it, and just return to doing the habit at the earliest opportunity? Over and over again.

It all becomes exceedingly simple, once we can drop expectations. And if we become fully present, it can even be joyful! The joy of being in the moment, doing something meaningful.

https://zenhabits.net/simple-discipline/

Hey(hā)

Hey everyone—

It’s 2020, we need to talk about email.

Email gets a bad rap, but it shouldn’t. Email’s a treasure.

It feels great to get an email from someone you care about. Or a newsletter you enjoy. Or an update from a service you like. That’s how email used to feel all the time.

But things changed.

You started getting stuff you didn’t want from people you didn’t know. You lost control over who could reach you. An avalanche(ˈavəˌlan(t)SH) of automated emails cluttered everything up.

And Gmail, Outlook, Yahoo, and Apple just let it happen.

Now email feels like a chore(CHôr), rather than a joy. Something you fall behind on. Something you clear out, not cherish(ˈCHeriSH). Rather than delight in it, you deal with it.

And yet, email remains a wonder. Thanks to email, people across cultures, continents(ˈkänt(ə)nənt), countries, cities, and communities communicate every day. It’s reliable(rəˈlīəb(ə)l). It’s simple. It makes it easy for two humans to share their love, and for millions of people to earn a living.

So good news, the magic’s still there. It’s just obscured(əbˈskyo͝or) — buried under a mess of bad habits and neglect(nəˈɡlekt). Some from people, some from machines, a lot from email software.

Email deserves(dəˈzərv) a dust off. A renovation(ˌrenəˈvāSH(ə)n). Modernized(ˈmädərˌnīz) for the way we email today.

With HEY, we’ve done just that. It’s a redo, a rethink, a simplified, potent reintroduction of email. A fresh start, the way it should be.

HEY is our love letter to email, and we’re sending it to you on the Web, Mac, Windows, Linux, iOS, and Android.

https://hey.com

Why It’s Good to Be Old, Even in a Pandemic

That aging can make us better than ever may be the biggest dirty little secret of all time.

By Bob Brody

Eight out of every 10 deaths from the coronavirus pandemic reported in the United States have happened to adults 65 and older, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention(prəˈven(t)SH(ə)n). So you could be forgiven for concluding this is a lousy(ˈlouzē) time to be over 65.

But at age 68, much to my surprise, I find it to be decidedly wonderful.

How, you ask, could this possibly be true? Old means you’re history. Old means you’re falling apart. Old means your days are numbered. Taking such a sunny attitude flies in the face of the facts, especially now.

Granted, old age is often associated with negatives — growing frailty(ˈfrā(ə)ltē), declining(dəˈklīniNG) independence, the loss(lôs) of loved ones and the approach of our own death. Covid-19 has rendered life especially hellish(ˈheliSH) for almost everyone old. We’ve quarantined(ˈkwôrənˌtēn) ourselves with singular(ˈsiNGɡyələr) rigor(ˈriɡər), largely marooned(məˈro͞on) from others. We’ve skipped routine(ro͞oˈtēn) checkups and screenings with our family physicians(fəˈziSHən), potentially aggravating(ˈaɡrəvādiNG) our chronic(ˈkränik) illnesses(ˈilnəs). We’ve gone months without coming face-to-face with our families, much less hugging our children and playing with our grandchildren. We’ve lost friends and colleagues, suffering not only grief(ɡrēf) but also despair about when it will all end. I, too, am running scared, afraid of losing everything I hold dear.

Still, and perhaps against all odds, I’m having the time of my life. That aging can in so many respects make us better than ever may be the biggest dirty little secret of all time. Research shows that older individuals are less prone(prōn) to experience unpleasant(ˌənˈplezənt) emotions and to retain(rəˈtān) negative memories. “Older people are better positioned to cope with stresses, including this pandemic,” says Patty(ˈpadē) David, director of personal fulfillment at AARP.

In response to the pandemic, I’ve upped my game when it comes to my health. More often than ever now, I walk through parks, pause to admire flowers and listen to birds singing, and eat fresh fruits and vegetables to boost my immune(iˈmyo͞on) system. I rewatch videos of my toddler granddaughter, Lucia, and try, though seldom(ˈseldəm) successfully, to limit my daily intake of hard news.

…
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/07/28/well/live/aging-benefits-pandemic.html

Why does a career woman dye(dī) her hair(her) green? It’s more than a midlife crisis

By Siân Morgan

The day my hair turned green, strangers became friendlier(ˈfren(d)lēr). After a half-century(ˈsen(t)SH(ə)rē) of being an introvert(ˈintrəˌvərt), this was a nice surprise.

In the queue(kyo͞o) for my first mammogram(ˈmaməˌɡram), I was slightly overwhelmed by the anxious and confusing rush of medical staff behind the counter and grumpy(ˈɡrəmpē) clients in the waiting room. When the young receptionist(rəˈsepSH(ə)nəst) looked up at me and broke into a wide sparkling smile, my first instinct was to look behind me and step out of the way to allow her to chat with her friend; but there was no one there showing any recognition. Oh! She’s smiling at me!

“I love your hair!” she exclaimed, and suddenly I felt that warm rush which happens when strangers connect for a brief moment in our otherwise busy and efficient days.

It’s difficult to put my finger on exactly why I dyed my hair. When people ask, which they don’t often do, I joke that it was my midlife crisis. If I don’t have green hair at 50 it’s never going to happen! This prepared answer is, frustratingly(ˈfrəˌstrādiNGlē), the only thing I can manage to say in the 10-second allotted(əˈlät) sound bite(bīt). But I yearn(yərn) to explain in a more meaningful way. I yearn to do this because I see the wide variety of reactions, the discomfort, the dismay and the delight elicited(ēˈlisət) by my turquoise(ˈtərˌk(w)oiz) coif(kwäf).

These reactions are amplified(ˈampləˌfī) by my line of work. As a director of a department of engineers, I already stand out for being one of the few women in my field. I have developed a professional, traditional work persona(ˌpərˈsōnə) and most of the engineers that I know are not exactly what I’d call walkers-on-the-wild-side. Perhaps I’m stereotyping(ˈsterēəˌtīp) by saying that we tend to excel at efficiency without frills(fril). Appreciation for hair colour, hair styles, even hair in general is not high on our list of priorities.

…
https://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/first-person/article-why-does-a-career-woman-dye-her-hair-green-its-more-than-a-midlife/

How changing the way you sit could add years to your life

Our bodies evolved to take rest breaks, but sitting on chairs and couches can cause long-term damage. Here’s how to change the way you sit and boost your health

By Herman Pontzer and David Raichlen

ANOTHER blistering(ˈblist(ə)riNG) afternoon in northern(ˈnôrT͟Hərn) Tanzania(ˌtanzəˈnēə), another high-stakes game of musical chairs. Stumbling(ˈstəmb(ə)liNG) back into camp to escape the sun, desperate(ˈdesp(ə)rət) for a seat, we glanced at each other and then at the single unoccupied(ˌənˈäkyəˌpīd) camp chair. In the other, grinning(ˈɡriniNG), sat(sat) Onawasi, a respected elder with a mischievous(ˈmisCHivəs) bent(bent). He seemed to be enjoying this.

We were spending our summer with the Hadza community, one of the last populations of hunter-gatherers on the planet(ˈplanət). Hadza men and women manage to avoid heart disease and other diseases of the more industrialised(inˈdəstrēəˌlīz) world, and we wanted to understand why. Our small research team had come in two Land Cruisers(ˈkro͞ozər) loaded with tech to measure(ˈmeZHər) every movement made and calorie(ˈkal(ə)rē) burned as Hadza men and women scoured(ˈskou(ə)r) the landscape(ˈlan(d)ˌskāp) every day for wild game, honey, tubers(ˈt(y)o͞obər) and berries(ˈberē).

After a long morning, we felt drained(drān) by the inescapable(ˌinəˈskāpəb(ə)l) heat(hēt) and humidity((h)yo͞oˈmidədē). All we wanted to do was sit. Onawasi seemed to feel the same way. He had spent the morning hunting, and certainly deserved the chair more than we did. But this was getting out of hand. Our precious(ˈpreSHəs) camp chairs that we took into the bush despite their weight were Hadza magnets(ˈmaɡnət). Every visitor to our little research area seemed drawn to them like moths to a porch(pôrCH) light.

https://www.newscientist.com/article/mg24732913-000-how-changing-the-way-you-sit-could-add-years-to-your-life/

$250K books sold. $250K to save lives.

By Derek Sivers

Six weeks ago I emailed my private(ˈprīvit) email list with a secret link to buy my new books.

They’re not even officially(əˈfiSHəlē) released yet, but they’ve already sold over $250,000.

I made 5000 limited edition hardcover copies of each, but those have sold out now.

I’ll admit, it made me ridiculously(rəˈdikyələslē) happy to make $250,000. I was expecting way less than that, so it was a big surprise. I had a spring in my step for days.

Then I thought about what to do with the money. There’s nothing I want to buy. Should I put it in an investment account? Eh. For what purpose? I don’t want more money.

So, I decided to donate(ˈdōˌnāt) it to charity(ˈCHerədē). Which charity? I want to save the most lives. So I let GiveWell decide.

Yesterday I wired the entire $250,000 to the Against Malaria(məˈlerēə) Foundation. That will buy 125,000 malaria nets, protecting ~225,000(approximately(əˈpräksəmətlē)) people, averting(əˈvərt) ~65,000 cases of malaria, preventing(prəˈvent) ~125 deaths.

Yeah. That’s worth doing.

Afterwards, a friend reminded me that I had just repeated my “232 sand dollars” story, so go read that if interested.

You can buy the books now, directly from me. They won’t be available anywhere else for a couple more months.

“Your Music and People” is a philosophy(fəˈläsəfē) of getting your work to the world by being creative, considerate, resourceful, and connected.

“Hell Yeah or No” is a collection of thoughts around what’s worth doing, fixing faulty(ˈfôltē) thinking, and making things happen.

https://sive.rs/250k

Before You See the Solution

By Steve Pavlina

A simple yet common common difference I’ve repeatedly seen between various friends could be described like this:

Some friends commit themselves to a problem before they’ve figured out the solution.
Some friends try to figure out the solution before they commit themselves to the problem.

By and large the first group makes significantly faster progress while the second group so often gets bogged(bäɡ) down and stuck.

Consider on which side you normally fall here.

Are you able to commit yourself to tackling(ˈtak(ə)l) a problem or undertaking a lifestyle transition before you have it all figured out?

Or do you need to have all of the major pieces figured out first before you can get moving?

I like committing to challenges where I don’t know how everything will work out in advance. Life feels more fun and adventurous(adˈven(t)SHərəs) that way. Risk adds some nice edginess(ˈejēnəs) to life.

Another advantage to committing first is that it upgrades your motivation. When you feel committed to a problem, you push yourself harder to solve it versus when you’re still in pre-commitment. And so you come up with more creative solutions because you have more pressure(ˈpreSHər) to do so.

Some people fear and avoid this kind of pressure, but used judiciously(jo͞oˈdiSHəslē) it can be a tremendous(trəˈmendəs) ally(ˈalī). You find out what you’re really made of when you have to come up with a solution or suffer some significant consequences. You’ll do a lot more to figure out the how-to details once you’re in motion.

Will you always pull through and avoid failure(ˈfālyər)? Probably not. I sure didn’t. Sometimes I over-committed myself and failed. But I still prefer that option because the more I commit first, the more I can fine-tune(t(y)o͞on) my calibration(kaləˈbrāSH(ə)n). I get better at figuring out when I’m really over-committing and when I should lean(lēn) in, stretch(streCH), and trust myself more.

..
https://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2020/06/committing-before-you-see-the-solution/

Review of “The Shawshank Redemption(rəˈdem(p)SH(ə)n)”

By Roger Ebert

It is a strange comment(ˈkäment) to make about a film set inside a prison(ˈprizən), but “The Shawshank Redemption” creates a warm hold on our feelings because it makes us a member of a family. Many movies offer us vicarious(vəˈkerēəs) experiences and quick, superficial(ˌso͞opərˈfiSHəl) emotions(əˈmōSH(ə)n). “Shawshank” slows down and looks. It uses the narrator’s(ˈnerādər) calm(kä(l)m), observant(əbˈzərvənt) voice to include us in the story of men who have formed a community behind bars. It is deeper than most films; about continuity(ˌkäntəˈn(y)o͞oədē) in a lifetime, based on friendship and hope.

Interesting that although the hero of the film is the convicted(kənˈviktəd) former banker Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins(ˈräbənz)), the action is never seen from his point of view. The film’s opening scene(sēn) shows him being given two life sentences for the murder of his wife and her lover, and then we move, permanently(ˈpərmənəntlē), to a point of view representing(ˌreprəˈzent) the prison population and particularly the lifer(ˈlīfər) Ellis ‘Red’ Redding (Morgan(ˈmôrɡən) Freeman). It is his voice remembering the first time he saw Andy (“looked like a stiff(stif) breeze would blow(blō) him over”), and predicting, wrongly, that he wouldn’t make it in prison.

From Andy’s arrival on the prison bus to the film’s end, we see only how others see him - Red, who becomes his best friend, Brooks the old librarian(ˌlīˈbrerēən), the corrupt(kəˈrəpt) Warden Norton, guards and prisoners(ˈpriz(ə)nər). Red is our surrogate(ˈsərəɡət). He’s the one we identify with, and the redemption, when it comes, is Red’s. We’ve been shown by Andy’s example that you have to keep true to yourself, not lose hope, bide(bīd) your time, set a quiet example and look for your chance. “I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really,” he tells Red. “Get busy livin’ or get busy dyin’.”

…
https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-the-shawshank-redemption-1994

self-doubt(dout)

The Imposter(imˈpästər) Syndrome(ˈsinˌdrōm)

By Henry H. Walker

not all wars are fought(fôt) with bullets(ˈbo͝olət),

we each can battle throughout our lives
with a part of ourselves that fears to see
that there is excellence(ˈeks(ə)ləns) within us,
that actively(ˈaktivlē) seeks to keep it from manifesting(ˈmanəˌfest),
the “imposter syndrome,” a term that seems to encapsulate(inˈkapsəˌlāt)
the part of us that so doubts ourselves
that we fear others seeing us as “posers(ˈpōzər),”
who know that we are faking it,
that underneath(ˌəndərˈnēTH) the illusion(iˈlo͞oZHən) of our sureness
there is a little kid
who doesn’t really know
what they’re doing,

when we are most vulnerable(ˈvəln(ə)rəb(ə)l),
this self-doubt wraps all around us
as if it is a snake(snāk) who squeezes(skwēz) the life out,

my career has been to work with adolescents(ˌadəˈles(ə)nt)
and help them burst free of the confining(kənˈfīn) coils(koil)
so that they can write and speak the truths they create
when they win a battle against debilitating(dəˈbiləˌtādiNG) doubt,

on stage the victory(ˈvikt(ə)rē) of self to be seen
can be striking(ˈstrīkiNG) and heartening(ˈhärtniNG),

in the classroom, on the field, with a team,
the battle quietly rages(rāj),

self-doubt can be a malicious(məˈliSHəs) enemy(ˈenəmē).

https://henryspoetry.blogspot.com/2020/07/self-doubt.html

Let Each Task Fill Up Your World

By Leo Babauta

Every now and then, I have to remind myself to do one thing at a time.

The tendency to try to do a whole bunch of things seems to be a natural result of my wanting to get everything done as soon as I can. Many browser(ˈbrouzər) tabs open, switching between one thing and the next, endlessly, endlessly.

No wonder I can never focus on anything!

Then I remember to do one thing at a time, and it’s like coming home.

I close all my browser tabs (bookmarking them first, so I can come back to them). I close my email and chat apps. I close everything.

Then I pick one thing, and I just do that.

Just read one article, with my full attention.

Open a full-screen writing app, and just write (as I’m doing now).

Just listen to something, with nothing else open. Just watch one video.

Just respond to one message, as if it’s the only conversation in the universe that matters.

Just wash(wäSH) one dish. Just eat one bite(bīt). Just brush my teeth, or wash my hands, or walk without stimulation. Just exercise.

One thing at a time.

Each one fills up my entire world, as if nothing else exists.

Each thing becomes everything.

It becomes practice in mindfulness. In being fully there. In letting go.

In being fully appreciative of what’s right in front of me. Falling in love with that thing, this gift I’ve been given.

https://zenhabits.net/world/