Discard the rest.

Until, of course, a later time when the things you have discarded end up being useful as well. It all depends on where you’re at and what you need at the moment.

And in some cases, what was once useful is now something that can be completely discarded.

I often fall victim to looking towards the next best thing instead of going back to what has already been. The joke among magicians is if you want to show something new, go read an old book and present it with modern dressings. It’s also the reason almost all magic tricks are just slight variations on the same principles that have been around forever.

Using what is useful and discarding rest… for now… absolves you from having to take it all in at once while setting a promise to revisit sometime later when needed. It forces you to absorb wisdom with the addition of gained life experience.

This addition of time and new perspective is the also reason you can never read the same book twice. Despite my inane desire to read everything the world, it can be useful to revisit completed titles to see what was missed the previous time around.

But in all things, regardless of how many times it has been visited, just use what is useful for now.

There is no obligation to take the rest.

If history books (videos, websites, etc.) have shown us anything, is that we will get through this moment in time.

Amidst the frustration, anger, sadness, victories and all around chaos that is happening in the world, humanity will eventually end up on the other side. For better or worse, we’re going to get there.

The question to ask is whether we will have learned anything along the way.

After almost a year of being in and out of lockdown, political meandering and uncertainty of what tomorrow will bring, it would be unfortunate to get here and not have gained anything.

Now would be the opportune time to take a few minutes for reflection and ask what the last year has brought you.

What happened?
What is your reaction?
What have you learned about yourself?

And the most important question:
Have you been honest?

The answers will reveal a future we are about to walk into.

To not have learned anything will be the biggest waste of the year.

A life built on the expectations of others leads to feelings of emptiness. While we can be grateful for what others desire for us, especially when their intentions are good, they may not line up with who we’re meant to be.

Desires have a tendency to change over time, but the values behind them are rooted in something deep within our hearts. What seems good, as brought by others, may be nothing more than fleeting illusions we build for ourselves.

Even when we are lost and seek the counsel of those who we hope will guide our way, it’s not always clear. While we expect answers, the ones they provide are merely suggestions.

Ultimately, what we desire can only be answered by one person:

Ourselves.

And for that, we need to be truly honest with who we really are.

Opinions.

Nothing more than subjective terms we pass around to convince others of an idea. Many times, it’s simply relative to previous experiences or other ideas.

However, they can be dangerous if we convince ourselves of it.

We close ourselves to a broader experience, a different viewpoint and most importantly, that our own idea is irrelevant.

The universe doesn’t really care what it throws at you, but it certainly expects you to deal with it.

I am thankful I’m living in a time where I can draw upon the wisdom of thousands of thinkers before me who have dealt with similar (and much worse) situations, alongside a technological communication boom where I can draw the support of so many people.

In the past week, there’s been a whirlwind of events that have been taking a toll: the sudden death of a friend, the sudden death of a good friend’s parents, the passing of my grandfather and the hospitalization of someone close.

For each one, it pains me to not be physically present to those who need support and it also leaves me with having to wrestle through the emotions of it all. All this while still needing to be a pillar of strength for my family.

And I know that life could (and does) get so much worse.

The truth is, it’s all out of my control and I need to be willing to let go.

So the question isn’t how much more can life throw at me, but rather, how much more can I let go?

History is not marked by the mundane, everyday occurrences of the people. It is marked by the unique events that could not be predicted… or not predicted too have consequences on such a large scale.

Yet, regardless of their outcomes, history moves on.

Such are the moments of life.

Regardless of what life throws our way, it is going to throw horrible curveballs many times. While it would be great to be prepared for anything, it’s always the unexpected that shows up.

It’s the unexpected storm that swirls around, blinding you to anything past the moment.

During those times, the best we can do is be the calm in that storm. Especially to those who are depending on us.

An interesting detail I came across recently was the earning trajectory of Warren Buffet. While he’s been ingrained in our culture as an incredibly wealthy investor, he made 96% of his money after the age of 60. Over 99% came after the age of 52.

By the age of 30, he was by all means already a success story, but his consistent performance kept compounding until it hit a ridiculous growth curve decades later.

It resonated with me as my wife and I looked over some particularly embarrassing photos from our University days. Laughing, I asked:

“Doesn’t that feel like a lifetime ago?”

I’ve come to appreciate wealth isn’t the only thing that can be patiently accrued over a long period of time with the required discipline and vision. This happens to us as well.

We are quick to dismiss the effects of small, compounded decisions over a long period of time. Even small nudges gradually set ourselves on a drastically different course if we’re willing to keep at it.

I look at my own writing a decade ago, compare it with today and get excited at the thought of where it’ll be twenty years from now with continued learning and practice. The same can be said for my attitude (hopefully getting better, but much of it will always irrevocably be me for better or worse).

It’s hard to have a vision of tomorrow when we’re all just trying to get to the end of the day. However, there’s always an opportunity to grow a little and patiently watch the results unfold.

When we consider many of our decisions, it pays to ask how much of our consideration is due to a lack of humility.

The cliche of “keeping up with the Jones” always seems like something other people do, until we take a hard look at our own lives.

Why did we do that?
Why did we make that decision?
Why did we make that purchase?
Why do we care so much?

Every day, I must work extremely hard against my own writer ego. This is the common fragile ego of any writer who considers every word they write as something profound, who shudder at the thought of someone criticizing their work and who refuse to just let go and let people decide how to take it.

Then there’s the dreaded sunk-cost fallacy where stubbornness and ego work together to keep a person pinned in a bad situation.

Even worse is the thought of the grass being greener on the other side, which the ego loves more than anything as a way to convince us as to why we’ll never be happy.

A bit of humility can illuminate many of our decisions… and make them a whole lot easier.

It’s the part after making the morning coffee and sitting down with a portable keyboard at my phone. While the kids are waking up and rolling into the day, I take a few moments to get lost in my thoughts.

A hybrid between morning pages, journaling and freewriting, it’s an opportunity where I can get just go free. Anything crawling around in the mind is put out onto the page.

It’s a time for just me, that can only be seen by myself.

If the morning is running late, the time gets taken elsewhere. All else is ignored while I take a few minutes to do some soul searching. At some point, when time becomes less of a luxury commodity, I may go back to pen and paper and really dive in each day.

In the meantime, a few selfish minutes of self-reflection. It may be the only time in a day when somebody asks, “How are you doing?” and be able to respond honestly.

I came across this article from Ryan Holiday the other day and had to smile.

As a person who has been fortunate to know all of his grandparents, people who lived and served through world wars, immigrated to start fresh in their midlife and lived over eighty years, there’s an incredible amount of consistency in those “lessons.”

My grandmothers would always complain I was too skinny, then feed me ice cream sandwiches, chips and extra helpings of second dinner… for breakfast.

My grandfathers worked in their yards, drank wine and asked me such profound questions as, “Why aren’t you married yet? I was married at seventeen.” They also never spoke about the war, despite serving in it. Ever.

All of them spent time just sitting on their porches for hours on end, sometimes not saying a word.

They gave thanks to God, loved their families and never complained. They just did what they had to do, lived out each day and watched the news at night.

They also never said much, but said a whole lot in those few words. That’s why my favourite line of the article is this one:

“A couple words is all you need when you’ve seen it all.”

I only hope I can reach that level of peace and wisdom.