The Lost Art of True Rest

By Leo Babauta

OK, calling this a “lost art” is a bit of hyperbole(hīˈpərbəlē), because there are some people who actually rest these days. But I don’t believe most people do it anymore.

I could rail(rāl) about the age of distraction (I’ve done that before), and social media and devices. Yada yada, you’ve heard it from me and many others. But whatever the reason is, we rarely(ˈrerlē) rest anymore.

Think about it: when you get a break, what do you normally do? Go on your phone or computer? Check messages or social media or your favorite websites? Watch video online? That’s how most people spend their breaks — myself included. I’m part of this.

What happens when you’re done with work for the day? That’s if you’re ever done — many of us will work practically(ˈpraktək(ə)lē) until we are falling asleep, if we’re allowed to. But if you’re done, do you read and watch and message online? Most people I know do that.

When do we ever truly rest, not only our bodies but our minds?

We need it. We really need it.

The lack of true rest creates a drainedness(drān), where we’re never really fully energized(ˈenərˌjīz), fully present, fully alive. It means that our relationships start to lack energy and connection. It means we sap(sap) the joy out of our lives. That might not be true for you, but you might relate(rəˈlāt) to it somewhat.

I have caught myself taking breaks or finishing for the day, only to get on my phone or laptop for mindless stuff. It feels like the thing I want to do when I have rest time … but it’s not really rest. I don’t feel refreshed(rəˈfreSHt) afterward, only more drained. It feels like I’m going to comfort, but not getting the rest I really need.

So let’s talk about the Lost Art of True Rest, and how to rediscover it.

https://zenhabits.net/resting/

THE BUILDING OF A COLD BREW(bro͞o) BRAND

Grady’s(ā) Cold Brew is a New Orleans(ˈôrlēənz, ôrˈlē(ə)nz)–Style cold brew that started as a Bottled(ˈbɑdld) Concentrate(ˈkänsənˌtrāt) back in 2011, now available in Ready to Drink, and Brew-it-Yourself interpretations(inˌtərprəˈtāSH(ə)n). Roasted(ˈrōstəd), blended(blend), and brewed in NYC. We cold brew a special blend of coffee, chicory(ˈCHikərē), and spices(spīs) for 20 hours, resulting in a velvety(ˈvelvədē)-smooth(smo͞oT͟H) cup with every pour(pôr).

Grady’s NOLA Cold Brew has a creamy(ˈkrēmē) mouthfeel(ˈmouTHfēl) with tasting(ˈtāstiNG) notes of chocolate and caramel(ˈkerəməl). The use of chicory is what makes the coffee NOLA style and gives it a natural, subtle(ˈsədl) sweetness. Adding our signature blend of spices emboldens(əmˈbōldən) and deepens the flavor(ˈflāvər) profile where many other cold brews fall flat(flat).

The company started like any great food and beverage(ˈbev(ə)rij) company - in a kitchen somewhere in Brooklyn. Working in production at GQ, Grady began to sling(sliNG) his signature brew in the elevator(ˈeləˌvādər) banks at Conde(kändā) Nast. Word spread quickly and soon people were hounding(hound) him for their fix. It wasn’t long before Grady’s Cold Brew received the highly covetable(ˈkəvədəb(ə)l) GQ feature and Grady quit(kwit) his day job. Partnering with co-founders Dave(dāv) and Kyle(kal), the three hustled(ˈhəsəl) to brew and distribute all week and gained exposure(ikˈspōZHər) selling iced coffee by the cup at Smorgasburg(ˈsmôrɡəsˌ bərɡ) on weekends.

Fast-forward to 2017, and we’re all moved into our new 15,000 sq.(skwer) ft. brewery(ˈbro͞o(ə)rē) in the Bronx(bräNGks). It’s a wonderland of stainless(ˈstānləs) steel(stēl) tanks(taNGk) and machinery(məˈSHēn(ə)rē) that will allow the company to maintain premium(ˈprēmēəm) quality, while growing in volume(ˈvälyəm).

We’re thrilled(THril) to have you along for the ride(rīd) and will continue to produce a product that Grady is proud to put his name on.

Cheers(CHirz),

Grady

https://www.gradyscoldbrew.com/pages/our-story

The New Weapon in the Covid-19 War

By Michael Lewis

A series(ˈsirēz) of dispatches(dəˈspaCH) from America in the age of Covid-19.

No one who passed the young woman on the street that night gave her so much as a second glance(ɡlans). It was a Saturday evening in the South Beach neighborhood of San(sän) Francisco and she was heading away from the stadium(ˈstādēəm) where the San Francisco Giants(ˈjīənt) were meant to be opening their season and toward the arena(əˈrēnə) where the Golden State Warriors(ˈwôrēər) were meant to be ending theirs.

The young woman carried a small, white Styrofoam(ˈstīrəˌfōm) cooler that looked as if it had made one too many fishing trips(trip). She wore a mask and running shoes. She made this trip almost every night and she might as well have been invisible. And she thought that was funny, because of what she usually had inside her Styrofoam cooler: racks(rak) of tubes(t(y)o͞ob) filled with Covid-19. The buildings in the area(ˈerēə) housed some of the world’s leading(ˈlediNG,ˈlēdiNG) labs studying deadly diseases: Ebola(ēˈbōlə), Zika, MERS, SARS(särz), bubonic(b(y)o͞oˈbänik) plague(plāɡ). They kept it all in refrigerators(rəˈfrijəˌrādər), but sometimes they needed to move it around. “Hang out here long enough,” the young woman said as she walked, “and you realize you don’t have any idea of what people are carrying.”

Her name was Hanna Retallack(re). She was a microbiologist(ˈˌmīkrōˌbīˈäləjəst) and student of Joe DeRisi(də), the virus hunter who, in early March, had turned the Chan Zuckerberg Biohub into what might be the country’s most interesting coronavirus testing lab. Retallack was just 29 but had established herself as a leading pupil(ˈpyo͞opəl) in what I’ve come to think of as the Joe DeRisi School of Badass(ˈbadˌas) Virus Hunters.

…
https://www.bloomberg.com/graphics/2020-opinion-chan-zuckerberg-biohub-covid-tracing/

Work + Fun

By 王渊源John

When learning something as an adult, it’s helpful to keep a balance between work and fun. If all of our learning is work, it will be hard for us to persist(pərˈsist), and we’re unlikely to put in the necessary time to learn effectively. If we only focus on what we find fun, though, we’re unlikely to build the strong foundation that we need to learn well.

Let’s take learning English as an example. Often people feel that in order to learn English they need to first master all of the sounds, lots of words, and all of the rules of grammar(ˈɡramər). This takes a lot of hard work and practice. This work is important, but most people find it so boring that they give up. Perhaps these learners would be more likely to persist if they included more fun in their English practice. Spending some time each day watching English movies or TV shows would be a great way to break the monotony(məˈnätnē) of focused practice, and it also provides an opportunity to use the words, sounds and grammar that they have been learning.

Other learners might focus only on the “fun” part, focusing almost exclusively(ikˈsklo͞osəvlē) on English shows, movies and songs. For some people this can end up being an effective strategy, but their progress is likely to be slowed by a weak foundation in the basics, and they often remain dependent on Chinese subtitles and translations. These learners would gain a lot from increasing their focus on basic training of pronunciation(prəˌnənsēˈāSH(ə)n), vocabulary(vōˈkabyəˌlerē) and grammar.

This is not just true for English, of course. Someone learning to play the piano who focused only on scales(skāl) would also be likely to give up, and so students also learn to play simple, familiar(fəˈmilyər) songs from the start of their learning. Other adult learners might focus only on playing the songs that they want to learn. They may see some success, but they would likely do better if they spent some times practicing scales as well.

So if you’re planning to develop a new skill, think about how to balance work and fun.

Where’s the Treasure(ˈtreZHər)?

By Steve Pavlina

One skill I had to learn as an entrepreneur was to invest in real opportunities, not dead ends. This can include opportunities for financial(fəˈnan(t)SHəl) gain(ɡān), but it can also include personal and professional growth opportunities, educational opportunities, creative opportunities, social opportunities, adventure opportunities, travel opportunities, and more.

Where there’s a genuine(ˈjenyo͞oən) opportunity, there’s a decent(ˈdēs(ə)nt) chance of a significant payoff if you invest some time and energy.

One trap(trap) I see many people falling into is that they invest in predictable(prəˈdiktəb(ə)l) dead ends instead of real opportunities. They invest where there are no rainbows or pots(pät) of gold(ɡōld), which means they don’t really invest at all – they spend time instead.

This world presents(prəˈzent) a ridiculous(rəˈdikyələs) abundance of interesting opportunities with plenty of delicious prizes(prīz), so why invest when the only payoff is that you cover your expenses? Where’s the excitement(ikˈsītmənt) in doing that each day? Why even bother showing up for such a low, fixed reward?

Opportunity blindness(ˈblīndnəs) is a real issue for some people. Many have become so accustomed(əˈkəstəmd) to living with uninspired(ˌənənˈspī(ə)rd), repetitive(rəˈpedədiv) cycles that they don’t realize that isn’t the only lifestyle option available. They could instead be living like treasure hunters, pursuing one fascinating(ˈfasəˌnādiNG) opportunity after another and discovering lots of real treasure along the way.

Don’t let life beat(bēt) you down into settling for peanuts when this world is full of fun treasures to discover. Don’t waste your time grinding(ˈɡrīndiNG) yourself into dead ends that offer no treasure.

Consider your current career path or business. Name the treasure you’re currently pursuing on that path. Where’s the pot of gold? Say it out loud.

Then notice how you feel about that prize. Does it excite(ikˈsīt) you? Do you think, Wow… it would be so awesome(ˈôsəm) to get there?

…
https://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2020/07/wheres-the-treasure/

Fatherhood

By Henry H. Walker

biology(bīˈäləjē) drives procreation(ˌprōkrēˈāSH(ə)n),
yet loving choice and conscious(ˈkän(t)SHəs) effort(ˈefərt)
can drive parenting into an art,
elevate(ˈeləˌvāt) it,
so that we can reach toward providing
what every child deserves,

the mother is primal(ˈprīməl) to the biology and to the parenting,
a bond that regularly deserves awe(ô)
and always deserves respect,

as a father I can feel as apprentice(əˈpren(t)əs) to a master,
yet also I can be a second set of hands,
a different angle(ˈaNGɡəl) to deepen(ˈdēpən) and broaden(ˈbrôdn) the view(vyo͞o),
a different emotionality(əˌmōSHəˈnalədē),

I work hard at being a good father, a good grandfather:
I work to see the child,
the adolescent(ˌadəˈles(ə)nt),
the adult,
to appreciate the being,
to appreciate the becoming,
to know when to hold close,
when to let go,
there is no more important job than parenting,
and being a good father is a calling
we should hear, and follow, as best we can.

https://henryspoetry.blogspot.com/2020/06/fatherhood.html

I haven’t camped in decades, will I still enjoy it?

By Linda Jones

When I retired(rəˈtī(ə)rd), I resolved to recapture my happy memories of camping(ˈkampiNG), like lying(ˈlīiNG) warm in a sleeping bag, muscles tired after a day of paddling(ˈpad(ə)liNG) or hiking(ˈhīkiNG), listening to the night sounds of lake and loon(lo͞on), wind and rain. So Canadian(kəˈnādēən), so romantic(rōˈman(t)ik), I loved camping when I was younger. All I had to do was go again and it would all be exactly the same. Right?

So later that year, I jumped at the chance to join a three-day trip into Lake Opeongo in Algonquin(alˈɡäNGkwən) Provincial(prəˈvin(t)SH(ə)l) Park. Sure, it was June(jo͞on) and there might be some blackflies, but what was a camping trip without bugs? They found us as we waited for the water taxi(ˈtaksē) on the dock(däk), ravenous(ˈrav(ə)nəs), maddening(ˈmad(ə)niNG) clouds settling(ˈsedl) over our heads. I slapped on some repellent(rəˈpelənt), dug a few out of my ears and still counted 16 bites along my hairline before we finally escaped in the boat.

As we churned(CHərn) our way toward the north end of the lake, canoes(kəˈno͞o) securely(səˈkyo͝orlē) lashed(laSHt) overhead, one friend leaned in and said quietly(ˈkwīətlē): “Don’t tell the others, but see that island? That’s where those people were killed by a black bear in 1991.”

I remembered the grisly(ˈɡrizlē) story, a young couple had canoed to the island, set up camp, and were then attacked and killed by a black bear. My chest tightened(ˈtītn) a little and there it was, something else I had forgotten, the low-level bear anxiety that had always accompanied(əˈkəmp(ə)nē) me on camping trips. Those wonderful sounds of lake and loon, wind and rain? I’d forgotten how alarming(əˈlärmiNG) they could be when you’re lying in the dark with only a flimsy(ˈflimzē) nylon(ˈnīˌlän) tent(tent) between you and a furry(ˈfərē) hulk(həlk) with big teeth, long claws(klô) and an appetite(ˈapəˌtīt).

…
https://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/first-person/article-i-havent-camped-in-decades-will-i-still-enjoy-it/

The Walkman, Forty Years On

The gadget(ˈɡajət) that taught(tôt) the world to socially(ˈsōSHəlē) distance.

By Matt Alt

Even prior(ˈprī(ə)r) to extended quarantines(ˈkwôrənˌtēn), lockdowns, and self-isolation, it was hard to imagine life without the electronic(əˌlekˈtränik) escapes(əˈskāp) of noise-cancelling earbuds(ˈirbəd), smartphones, and tablets(ˈtablət). Today, it seems impossible. Of course, there was most certainly a before and after, a point around which the cultural(ˈkəlCH(ə)rəl) gravity(ˈɡravədē) of our plugged-in-yet-tuned-out modern lives shifted. Its name is Walkman, and it was invented, in Japan, in 1979. After the Walkman arrived on American shores(SHôr), in June of 1980, under the temporary name of Soundabout, our days would never be the same.

Up to this point, music was primarily a shared experience: families huddling(ˈhədl) around furniture-sized Philcos; teens(tēnz) blasting(blast) tunes(t(y)o͞on) from automobiles(ˈôdəmōˌbēl) or sock(säk)-hopping to transistor(tranˈzistər) radios; the bar-room juke(jo͞ok); break-dancers popping and locking to the sonic(ˈsänik) backdrop of a boom box. After the Walkman, music could be silence to all but the listener, cocooned(kəˈko͞on) within a personal soundscape(ˈsoun(d)skāp), which spooled(spo͞ol) on analog(ˈanlˌôɡ) cassette(kəˈset) tape(tāp). The effect was shocking even to its creators. “Everyone knows what headphones sound like today,” the late Sony designer Yasuo Kuroki wrote in a Japanese-language memoir(ˈmemˌwär), from 1990. “But at the time, you couldn’t even imagine it, and then suddenly Beethoven’s(ˈbāthōvən) Fifth is hammering(ˈhaməriNG) between your ears.”

The initial(iˈniSHəl) incarnation(ˌinkärˈnāSH(ə)n) of the Walkman, the TPS-L2, was envisioned(ənˈviZHən) as a toy for Japanese high-school and college students to use as they studied. (Sharp-eyed fans will recognize the distinctive(dəˈstiNG(k)tiv) silver(ˈsilvər) and blue TPS-L2 as the model carried by Peter(ˈpēdər) Quill(kwil) in Marvel’s(ˈmärvəl) “Guardians(ˈɡärdēən) of the Galaxy(ˈɡaləksē)” films.) Sony’s chairman at the time, the genial(jəˈnēəl,ˈjēnyəl) Akio Morita(mə’ridə), was so unsure of the device’s prospects(ˈpräˌspekt) that he ordered a manufacturing(ˌman(y)əˈfakCHəriNG) run of only thirty thousand, a drop in the bucket compared to such established lines as Trinitron(trinə’) televisions. Initially, he seemed right to be cautious(ˈkôSHəs). The Walkman débuted(dāˈbyo͞o) in Japan to near silence. But word quickly spread among the youth of Tokyo about a strange new device that let you carry(ˈkerē) a soundtrack out of your bedroom, onto commuter(kəˈmyo͞odər) trains, and into city streets. Within a year and a half of the appearance of the Walkman, Sony would produce and sell two million of them.

…
https://www.newyorker.com/culture/cultural-comment/the-walkman-forty-years-on

It’s Time to Change the Status Quo

By Leo Babauta

This is a painful time for so many of us. There is anger, outrage(ˈoutˌrāj), pain, fear, racism(ˈrāˌsizəm), injustice(inˈjəstəs), sadness, exhaustion(iɡˈzôsCH(ə)n) — and it’s not just a recent thing, it goes back generations, as far as our country has existed.

It’s heartbreaking.

We need to let our hearts be broken by how minorities(məˈnôrədē), but especially Black people, are treated in this country. Let our hearts be broken by the fear they have to live through, the injustice they’ve suffered, the way they’re perceived by everyone else, the way they’re put down, incarcerated(inˈkärsəˌrāt), stomped(stämp) on, segregated(ˈseɡrəɡādəd), outcast, spit on, villainized(ˈvilən), criminalized(ˈkrim(ə)nəˌlīz), demonized(ˈdēməˌnīz), slurred(slər), patronized(ˈpātrəˌnīz), marginalized(ˈmärjənəˌlīzd), rejected, and put into poverty(ˈpävərdē) … and then blamed for all of that. Let our hearts be broken by how long this has been allowed to go on, how exhausted they must feel from all of it.

We start with the heartbreak, and then let this move us to finally take action.

Let’s end this now. Change is possible faster than we usually believe, if there’s a will. Gay marriage, decriminalization(ˌdēˌkrim(ə)nələˈzāSH(ə)n) of marijuana(ˌmerəˈ(h)wänə), and a Black president(ˈprez(ə)dənt) have proven that, just to start with. Change is possible now, if we decide it needs to happen.

It needs to happen.

We’ve allowed this to go on for too long. And let’s not be mistaken: we’re all culpable(ˈkəlpəb(ə)l) in this. All of us. For pretending(prəˈtend) it’s not real, for ignoring it, for allowing our own biases(ˈbīəs) and racism to go unchecked, for not calling out racism and oppression(əˈpreSHən) in our institutions and society, for not talking about it, for not marching on it, for not demanding that change happen now. We all share responsibility.

But let’s not get into finger pointing and blame. Point the finger at ourselves, own our own part, and then let’s make it right. Own our impact, and clean up our mess.

Let’s change the status quo. Not allow police brutality(bro͞oˈtalədē), to start with. Not allow racism or sexism(ˈsekˌsizəm) in our institutions. Not criminalize being Black, or being an immigrant(ˈiməɡrənt). Not allow voices to be oppressed. Not allow segregation(ˌseɡrəˈɡāSH(ə)n) and oceans of minority poverty. Not allow our political(pəˈlidək(ə)l), economic, social, educational systems to be systems of oppression, but to become systems of positive change.

We have the power to do that. Let’s claim it.

https://zenhabits.net/itstime/

Review of “Hamilton”

By Odie Henderson

Just in time for the Fourth of July, Disney+ is doing a solid for anyone who couldn’t get a ticket to the Broadway sensation(senˈsāSH(ə)n) known as “Hamilton.” All 160 minutes of it, including a very brief intermission(ˌin(t)ərˈmiSHən) and some minor censoring of language, will be streaming on the service starting July 3rd. Shot over two nights in 2016 with most of the original cast, including all its Tony winners, this is more than just a filmed performance. Great care has gone into making this as cinematic(ˌsinəˈmadik) as possible. The camerawork(ˈkam(ə)rəˌwərk), editing and direction also bring the one thing you couldn’t get at the Richard Rogers Theatre(theater): a closeness that allows you to see the emotions (and the sweat) on the performers’ faces. Director Thomas Kail (who also helmed(helm) the stage production) uses his close-ups judiciously(jo͞oˈdiSHəslē), but manages to keep this level of intimacy(ˈin(t)əməsē) even when we’re able to see the entire stage and all its performers.

With its PG-13 rating(ˈrādiNG), this is the most adult movie to appear behind the Walt Disney castle(ˈkasəl) logo. It’s certainly raunchy(ˈrôn(t)SHē) in ways Uncle Walt wouldn’t have approved, most notably(ˈnōdəblē) in depicting(dəˈpikt) the adulterous(əˈdəlt(ə)rəs) events that led(led) to the Reynolds(ˈrenəldz) pamphlet(ˈpamflət), a Sidney Sheldon-worthy(ˈwərT͟Hē) tell-all published by its protagonist(prōˈtaɡənəst), Alexander(ˌaləɡˈzandər) Hamilton (Lin-Manuel Miranda(məˈrandə)). “Well, he never gonna be President now,” sings Thomas Jefferson(ˈjefərsən) (Tony winner Daveed(ə) Diggs), a conceit(kənˈsēt) that seems particularly quaint(kwānt) and hilarious(həˈlerēəs) when you consider who was elected(əˈlekt) to that office the year “Hamilton” won 11 Tonys and the Pulitzer(ˈpo͝olətsər, ˈpyo͞olətsər ) Prize.

…
https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/hamilton-movie-review-2020