Honing Your Craft

I don’t feel much like writing today. Which makes it all the more important that I sit down and bang on my keyboard.

Discipline matters more than creativity, inspiration, or motivation.

Especially if your goal is mastery.

When you’re just starting out – regardless what your craft – getting started is often the most difficult part.

As you mature in your craft and begin to develop some actual skill, starting gets easier. But sticking with it can be a challenge.

Once you’ve developed some level of mastery, it’s not necessarily getting started or sticking with it that you’ll have trouble with. No.

Once you get to a certain level, it’s far more likely that you’ll use “your standard” as an excuse for consistently working on your craft.

“You should not attempt anything unless you can do great work,” the voice of Resistance teases.

But that’s not how ideas transform into great work.

If you truly want to hone your craft, set aside time every single day.

Do not allow yourself to develop the bad habit of believing your own press. No matter how good you get, you still need practice to stay fresh.

Even if that means some off days. Even if that means missing your mark. And even if that means starting back over as a beginner in order to reinvent yourself all over again.

On the path to true mastery, discipline matters more than almost everything – including talent.

As they say, “The world is run by people who show up.”

Practicing Gratitude

Gratitude is a strange, but necessary thing.

On one hand, gratitude poses a challenge. Because there’s a fine line between admitting circumstances beyond control played out favorably and discounting actual effort put into creating favorable circumstances.

Practicing gratitude is not the same thing as self-sacrifice. It doesn’t have to be some pompous pretend show.

“I’m feeling so blessed by God right now for all these things He provided for me.” (While casually alluding to the lifestyle you deliberately set out to create.)

That’s not gratitude in my book. It’s deceitfully ascribing the results of your own choices to some power outside yourself.

Not to say that we haven’t each been blessed with unique gifts and talents to create better circumstances – and free will to choose how to apply our gifts and talents in the world.

But I always feel a phony any time I catch myself pretending I feel blessed for the results of using my talents. Because what I feel in those moments is not gratitude – it’s pride.

Which is why gratitude can be such a complicated emotion and action. If for no other reason than that I like to overcomplicate things.

Gratitude As Seeking Joy

On the other hand, I often like to think about the object of gratitude. What am I grateful for? When I boil it down, this “object” of gratitude is more or less the margin between an idyllic present and worst case scenario.

Even if present circumstances aren’t perfect, it’s possible to idealize them. And that’s where gratitude really shines. Especially contrasted against how much worse things could be. Because inevitably, things could always be much, much worse than they are.

It’s almost as if gratitude is the practice of deliberate excavation of joy from the details of our life – imperfect as they may be.

We practice gratitude when we deliberately seek joy over other possible attitudes.

Which is the beauty of it. That gratitude is a choice, not a given.

Things I’m Grateful For

It’s the day before 2021 Thanksgiving. Tomorrow I get to spend the whole day cooking, feasting, and fellowshipping with family.

I have not done this in years. For the past decade, I lived nearly a 1,000 miles away, and rarely came home for Thanksgiving. Now that I live close again, it would seem like a wasted opportunity not to take advantage of proximity to family.

I’m grateful for the maturity and wisdom that comes from reflection on past experience.

I’m also grateful for the agency to redirect my time, resources and attention as I navigate through different eras of life, and my priorities shift.

I imagine joy would be such a difficult state to achieve in the absence of choice. I’m grateful for the power to choose, for free will, and for the cognitive ability to evaluate different possible choices, then act out those choices.

I’m also grateful for people. It would surely be a lonely, miserable existence without others in our lives to accompany us on our journey through time. How diminished joy would be without others to share in its revelations.

I’m grateful for family. For Friends. For freedom. Good business. Life. Health. And a long list of other things.

What would the best version of yourself be like?

Here is a useful tip I’ve discovered whenever I encounter unknown situations:

Just ask yourself, “What would the best version of myself be like in this moment?”

(This is particularly useful for robots, like that Facebook founder, who are only pretending to be humans. Just a joke. Chill out. Don’t put me on some list.)

Anyway, it’s a useful tip because it’s an open-ended question. Which forces you to flip on the ol’ imagination. Rather than asking yourself silly, self-doubting (or self-loathing) closed- ended questions. Like, “Should I do X?”, “Should I have said Y?”

This question is not meant to encourage you to shut off in the middle of real-life scenarios, so you can brainstorm how to behave. Don’t do that, psycho. Just be authentic.

It’s really meant more for reflection. Especially if you ever find yourself putting your foot in your own mouth. Or wishing you’d have handled a situation differently.

You’re going to botch it all up quite a few times in your life. Shrug it off. Then reflect.

How could that have gone differently?

“How would the best version of myself handled that moment?”

Asking these kinds of questions creates the semblance of an ideal for you to strive for in future scenarios. That, paired with the critical self-knowledge of your own past uncomfortable failures, gives you some good guardrails for future interactions.

“What’s the worst than could happen?” and “How would the best version of myself handle this?”

Aim to end up somewhere in the middle of those. Reflect. Move on with your life. Improve in the future.

Good Destination, Bad Directions

I turn 30 today (happy birthday to me, right?). Aging tends to force reflection. It gives cause to think back on decisions – the good, the bad, and the ugly. If we’re smart, that reflection offers lessons to help us improve ourselves over time.

Here’s one big lesson I’ve been meditating on:

Having the proper destination in mind does not validate your route to it.

Life is a series of goals. We make subsequent decisions in relation to our goals. Often we do the best that we can with the information we have.

But we don’t always have the best information. Nor do we always have the best of intentions. (Thought even when we do have good intentions, sometimes we’re bad at selecting the proper means.)

Still, with our limited knowledge, we aim at the highest, best goals we can fathom (if we are wise), and we dedicate ourselves to manifesting those into reality.

Except we’re not always great at bringing our ideas to life. Not to the level of perfection we all likely aspire to.

We choose our goals. Then we choose the route that we believe is most likely to get us there. Hopefully, most efficiently.

Sometimes, though, we choose the right goal but the wrong route. Which makes it incredibly difficult to see our own errors.

It can often feel like “selecting your goal” is the most difficult part of personal development. But that’s rarely true. Choosing a target is easier than hitting it.

But when you take special care in selecting which targets to aim at with your scarce resources, and you finally determine one that’s worthwhile – it can give you a sense of absolution about the means you select for getting there.

Choosing a good destination does not let you off the hook for using bad directions, though.

Even honorable goals are overshadowed by unworthy means.

The work isn’t done once you choose your target. You must also take special care as you work toward it, to ensure that you’re not allowing a desirable “end” is to justify bad means.

Knowledge Proxies

The world continues to increase in complexity. On average, we’re poorly equipped to handle this.

Our iPhones and Google empower us to “fact check” and “research” on the fly. While non-stop streams of propaganda (oops – I mean social media) color our opinions.

I often wonder if our perception of knowledge deludes us to our ignorance.

For instance, I know that I’m still fascinated on a regular basis about how abysmally little I know about the world around me. Even the simple stuff. Including things I feel like I know a lot about.

It’s honestly incredible people don’t regularly break down from the sheer overload of complexity in our world.

But beyond my ability to ask other people and observe, I’m limited to my own experience. Maybe other people are much smarter than me. (If I was a dick, I’d add a line here, like “But I doubt it.”) Or maybe most people find bliss in ignorance.

Regardless of how other people experience the world, what chance does a guy like me (who wants to “win” at life) stand at maneuvering through all the complexity? Without wasting my best years sticking my nose inside every textbook within reach.

Facing Down Ignorance

One thing I’ve learned is that I don’t know much about much – even the stuff I think I know a lot about. Re-reading that sentence reminds me of the infamous Mark Twain quote:

“What gets us into trouble is not what we don’t know. It’s what we know for sure that just ain’t so.”

Mark Twain

But nobody likes to be a know-nothing (especially not me). So we do our best when we face situations where we risk exposing our incompetence.

There’s the “fake-it ’til you make it” crowd. Which I now consider myself expatriated from. Basically you just feign competence. Some people do this for posture’s sake. They’re not bothered by the truth of their own ignorance. Others do it to survive – believing firmly in their own ability to hustle and learn so fast they overcome their ignorance before they’re found out (this was me).

Either way, you can only fake it so many times before you’re eventually found out. This isn’t a long-term winning strategy, even if offers temporary gains.

Of course, there are other options too.

The abhorrent “I don’t know” camp comes to mind. This camp accepts the truth of reality agnostically. Whenever you encounter something novel, you admit the truth. “I don’t know.” Of course, that “I don’t know” could mean blind acceptance of your ignorance. Or it could be the fuel to your fire to acquire new information (this is the part of the camp I prefer to inhabit).

But we just can’t learn about everything. There’s simply not enough time.

So, how do we cope with an ever-increasingly complex world, with our ever-finite base of knowledge?

Here’s one potential solution: I like to call it the “knowledge proxy.”

The Knowledge Proxy

I want to tell you a story first before I tell you about knowledge proxies.

For those who don’t already know, one of my guilty pleasures is wine. I love it. Every aspect. I love to drink it. Smell it. Read about it. Learn about it. The history surrounding it. The drama of it. The scandals. The culture. The traditions. The formality. And maybe most of all is that wine demands its own pound of flesh from you before you can truly appreciate all that it has to offer. It’s one of those rare few things left in life that has an extremely high barrier to entry that even money can’t overcome.

Anyway, when I first fell in love with wine I knew very little about the subject. Which can be daunting. And expensive. But when you don’t have much money and you want to learn about something relatively pricey, you’ve got to learn how to place your bets effectively.

Which is exactly what I did when I made an accidental discovery. I take pictures of every bottle I drink that I enjoy. I take notes (even if only mental). At some point I noticed that two bottles I drank both carried the same note on the back – “Imported by Kermit Lynch.” (Who is a famous wine merchant, though I didn’t know it at the time.)

This became a beacon for me. When I didn’t know about a bottle and there was nothing around to help, rather than relying on my own limited supply of knowledge, I looked to the label. If I saw “Imported by Kermit Lynch” I read it as an endorsement – almost like insurance against buying a bad bottle.

It was not a perfect solution. But it did act as a filter. When you’re facing thousands of possible choices, sometimes all you need is a good filter. Rather than picking from among thousands, I found myself picking among dozens.

That’s a knowledge proxy.

Using Proxies to Navigate the World

Proxies, by definition, are simply a substitute. They do not fully protect you against your own ignorance. But they certainly can offer a hedge.

We all use them all the time already. Anytime we take a recommendation from someone. Or even when we rely on our own biases – after all, that’s really what biases are, anyway. They’re just shortcuts. Proxies for actual knowledge.

Proxies by themselves do not perfectly describe or define the world around us. But they can be useful in reducing the complexity enough that our simple ape brains can more effectively manage it.

But, just like anything else, proxies can be prone to error – especially if you’re using some other person’s opinion as a proxy for your own decision-making.

So tread with caution. Though here’s one tip, if I may.

Avoid Single Points of Failure

Having insufficient knowledge of a subject does not get you off the hook for making decisions. But it sure does increase the danger to you.

This is how people get taken advantage of. And if you’re a stupid person, I pity you. Unless of course, you’re stupid by choice. In which case, half of me envies you. And the other half wonders how you’ve survived this long.

Anyway, back to the point here.

Whenever you have insufficient knowledge, relying on a single proxy increases the risk of a bad decision. Because you’ve created a single point of failure.

I’ll repurpose the wine scenario to illustrate what I mean by this.

Let’s suppose for a moment that the “imported by” feature had been a bad proxy for selecting wine. Maybe I’d gotten lucky the first few times. What if I’d been wrong though, and more often than not it represented low-quality wines? That sure would’ve been sour grapes, huh?

While I my knowledge was limited, it sufficed. But as I learned more, I began to add additional layers of proxies.

Rather than rely solely on the “Imported by” proxy, I also began to catalogue the particular regions, grape varietals, and producers I enjoyed.

So I could confidently navigate a wine shop or wine menu by looking for multiple data points – multiple proxies.

If a bottle boasted, “Imported by” + “Desirable grape varietal” + “Region I’ve enjoyed”, then I could be reasonably confident about my selection – and thereby increase the bet I was willing to take (i.e. My willingness to spend more money on a particular bottle increases as my confidence in the selection does.)

The same thing is true in our day to day lives. This is the power of second opinions at work.

Proxies, by themselves, do not excuse us from responsibility for making decisions. They simply help us catalog the world around us when we don’t have all the information.

The more proxies you have, the more boldly you can navigate into uncharted territory. Of course, you can always supplement proxies with your own learnings, too.

But learning how to use proxies – and then layer multiple levels – that can be a true super power in an increasingly complex world.

Forward Locomotion When Lacking Information

It’s a challenge making decisions when you don’t have all the facts.

The old adage, “Do the best you can with what you’ve got”, is a nice, but hardly comforting sentiment.

After all, not just any decision will do. We want to make decisions that advance us toward something – some idealized future state or goal.

Some things that help me:

First, gain as much clarity as you can about the end destination. Describe this better state intimately if you can.

Use that description to imagine your path forward from where you are.

Who must you become to achieve this vision?

What must you do?

And equally important – who must you avoid becoming? What must you not do?

The answers to those questions determine your guardrails.

On one hand, you’ve defined your ideal and components of it.

On the other, you’ve defined a set of activities and behaviors which will either increase the difficulty of or altogether disqualify you from reaching your goal. Which is often easier than listing out the activities and behaviors that will help you.

In between those two states are behaviors and activities that could help you advance – or not – but won’t hurt your progress.

Sure, that might be useful at the abstract planning level. But what about decisions in isolation?

Here’s another tip that works for me:

When considering a decision, don’t ask “Will” this help me? Rather, ask “Could” this help me?

Language matters. “Will” offers determinate outcomes. It closes off your mind from possibilities. While asking “could” activates your creative faculties.

The truth of the matter is that you’ll almost never be able to predict definitively how one choice might play out over time. (Within reason, of course, you can safely assume how eating a bottle of rat poison might impact your fate.)

Occasionally, you’ll be forced to choose among two options. Both may seem positive. But you may be uncertain which one will help you more.

Here’s what I recommend:

Don’t lose too much sleep over the decision. Early in your life and career, say yes to everything that’s not a hell no. If one decision excites you more (or challenges you more), pick that.

As you gain more leverage, you can adapt this to say no to everything that’s not a hell yes.

Rather than fret over the relative value of two decisions, focus more on avoiding stuff you hate.

So long as you are moving in a direction away from what you hate – and away from behaviors that disqualify you from your “end prize” – then you can safely advance with confidence.

Find Your Leverage

Everything in life comes easier if you can find a leverage point.

Archimedes once famously said, “Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world.”

The same holds true for our own lives.

It’s not always obvious what we have to leverage. Especially when we’re just starting out.

We lack knowledge. And experience. And money. So we set out to learn, to work, and to earn.

Over time we accumulate resources. But the value of those resources are not always obvious.

It’s easy to comprehend the accumulation of wealth. We can quantify it. It’s divisible, and a medium of exchange.

But what of our knowledge and experience? These presumably hold value, too – at least, they must, because they’re the basis for our ability to earn.

Over time, our accumulated knowledge and experience appreciates in value. Except most people only tap into its potential through transactional exchanges of their time – a certain number of hours converted into a certain number of dollars.

Likely because it’s the easiest to quantify and exploit – our average, collective understanding of leverage tends to be limited to money.

So people gravitate toward accumulating money – and using leverage – to achieve financial freedom. But how much faster could you go if you made use of all forms of leverage – knowledge, experience, capital?

What if every new lesson you learned made you twice as productive?

What if you could figure out how to bottle and harness your knowledge and experience – without additional inputs of time or labor?

How To Reduce the Chaos of Endless Choice Realities

One big challenge of life is figuring out what targets to aim at. We live in a time and world with nearly unlimited choices as it relates to careers, location, income goals, industry, and beyond.

So how do you navigate this – to ultimately discover the “right” target to take aim at?

Here’s one suggestion to get started: Find one goal you could aim everything you’ve got at.

By picking a goal that requires you to aim above the horizon, you force yourself to imagine who you must become in order to achieve that goal. 

This is a useful strategy for several reasons.

1. It allows you to orient yourself. Where (and who) are you today, versus where you’d like to be as a result of achieving your goal (and rather, who you’d like to be).

2. It reveals disparity. Moving toward your goals necessitates progress and change. You cannot become who you must be by accepting your current circumstances. Goal-setting contrasts the future you desire against the reality of your present, which enhances your own self-awareness.

3. It gives you a roadmap for how to behave. When you set a goal, you choose a target to take aim at. Which gives you a focal point into the future that you can work backwards from. Some choices will help you make progress toward that focal point, while others will lead you astray. 

Negotiating With Your Future

Setting goals forces us to detach ourselves from our past and present circumstances. Even without taking action on them, it offers an exercise in future-orientation.

If you really want to make headway toward your goals, then you’ve got to take inventory of your life –from the choices you make to the activities you spend your time on to your current available resources.

Taking inventory reveals positive and negative stock.

If you discover things that are holding you back, then if you really want to achieve your goals, you’ll be forced to address the baggage in your life.

Sometimes, you’ve got to sacrifice those demons at the altar of your future in order to stand a shot at advancing ahead.

Changing Course

As you go throughout life’s adventure, you’ll likely discover other targets worth aiming at – goals that you’d rather pursue. And you’ll almost always have different interests pulling you in different directions.

If you can go all-in on at least one thing – even if only for a short period in your life – you’ll build discipline, you’ll gain credibility, and maybe most importantly, you’ll build momentum.

You won’t always achieve the goals you set out to. Often, your pursuit of one goal will reveal an entirely different, more exciting path – when that happens, change course. 

This variety of life, though, should not be a cause for anxiety. Instead, it’s a good cause for excitement and enthusiasm about the endless possibilities that are waiting for you.

But you’ve got to start first. 

There are opportunities out there that you don’t know about yet. And you likely won’t discover them until you take aim at something and start moving toward it.

That’s the great adventure of life. It’s an ongoing discovery process, and you can always change course as new opportunities reveal themselves.

Why Is It Difficult For A Rich Man To Enter the Kingdom of Heaven?

There’s much ado about money being the root of all evil. It would seem especially so among those who haven’t earned it.

Behind veils of envy, I imagine, those of lesser means point to those of great means, scoffing. “You know what they say about rich men and heaven, right?”

But I seriously doubt the acquisition of wealth itself has anything to do with entering the kingdom of heaven. That it likely has much more to do with our relationship to money.

For instance, there’s a startling similarity between people who are consumed with money – whether they have it or not.

Money is simply a medium of exchange (especially fiat money). Its value is predicated on a shared superstition. We hope others will value money along a similar scale, should we present them with it in exchange for something else we desire.

Obsessing over money as a primary end is a distraction. When it comes to the Kingdom of Heaven, apparently it can be a fatal distraction.

But why?

I imagine it has less to do with money and much more to do with idolatry. People have always enjoyed fashioning gods out of gold. Especially when God’s voice seems distant, or absent altogether.

It’s unfortunate that many people likely read scripture about money and become jaded. “Well I’ll just swear off money altogether since it’s evil!”

Ok, sure. I bet you will.

Swearing off money is easy if you have nothing valuable to offer the world. But it’s much harder if you want to be valuable. Because money follows value.

So, let’s imagine, then, that God has called His people to become the highest, best versions of themselves. To truly embrace what John Piper calls “Christian Hedonism” – to lose ourselves in the pursuit of the pleasure we find by pleasing God.

What then should we do if God’s highest calling leads us to become valuable to other people? If we’re rewarded handsomely for leaving the world better than we found it, what are we to do?

I believe the root of the matter has less to do with material wealth than with spiritual health.

Perhaps your pursuit of what is meaningful requires vast sums of money. So be it. Why should you be cheated out of salvation? Especially considering the difficulty in acquiring vast sums of money.

Perhaps your pursuit of what is meaningful requires enduring suffering? So be it. Why should your struggle be any more or less noble than the pursuit of what is meaningful along another dimension?

It’s a rather Marxist reduction to suppose God wants us to obsess over all things according to their economic utility.

We are called to our own battlefields. It’s our response to the call that matters. Plenty of people ignore the rooster’s crow. Some due to money. Some out of lust. Others for the sake of power.

But money is no more or less evil than anything else that we fashion into false gods. It would serve us well to remember that.

Approaching 30

I turn 30 later this month.

Which is a weird feeling – retiring from my 20s. The past decade was a harsh teacher. Especially the first half.

Over the past 10 years, my life has taken quite a few twists and turns from what I originally expected.

By most accounts from my teenage and early-20s something, I’m a failure. I did not – nor am I on my way to becoming – a pediatric neurosurgeon. Nor a corporate finance attorney.

I’m on quite a different path. A path I didn’t know existed a decade ago.

Where my life and career are not a function of expectations – or a false sense of obligation. Rather, I have agency over the design of both. Which is freeing. But also comes at a high cost.

The weight I carry today somehow feels lighter and heavier than the weight I carried a decade ago.

Part of that is the sheer challenge of attempting to build a life and career on my own terms – rather than opting for the conveyor belt, assembly line version most people settle for.

Another part is the weight of responsibility. Which is probably the starkest contrast between who (and what) I am today compared to who (and what) I was 10 years ago.

The Big “R” Word.

It’s easy to shirk off responsibility for everything that happens to you when you don’t have a purpose in life.

That was me entering my 20s. Somebody who liked to point fingers. And play the victim card all too often. Even though I fancied myself as someone ambitious, assertive, and self-reliant.

But I wasn’t really. Defaulting to the traditional path as a plan for my life stole my agency from me. It freed me from the burden of critical thinking about what to do with my life – and more importantly, who I should become.

As I approach 30, I recognize many of the errors of my youth. Some are quite embarrassing. Even if useful lessons.

I also recognize the opportunity of the present – and my responsibility for whatever time I have left. To make more of myself than I was yesterday. More of myself than I was a decade ago. And more of myself tomorrow than I am today.

After all, what hope do we have in growing old if not that we’re getting better with time?