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.

Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

The meditations of Marcus Aurelius is a piece of work I return to often. The wisdom he presents can be mined several times over and be useful at different stages of life.

This particular passage is taking on a new meaning for me now.

I’ve always been a future thinker, considering options ahead and coming trends. There’s also an anticipation of what I want the future to be and a hope of my expectations for it.

However, I’ve always just assumed my “future self” will have the solutions necessary for whatever would come my way, completely missing the point that my present self is my future self.

What I’m doing right now is who I’m eventually becoming.

If I’m happy with how I’ve presently “armed” myself, I’ll be happy with what the future will bring. It calls me to consider whether what I’m doing for myself at this time (physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually) is helpful.

There’s always more work to be done, but if I’m working at it, then there shouldn’t me much to worry about. After all, there’s very little each of us can control about the world, but we can take care of ourselves and those around us.

And if we do that, then the future will be bright and there really won’t be anything to worry about.

Beneath the surface of idle conversation and jot notes about the day, there is something that lurks.

It’s the skeleton in the closet, the demon in the basement and the shadow we don’t acknowledge. We know it’s there and we know at some point, it needs to be confronted, but the fear of facing it is too great.

The surface is safe.
It’s comfortable.
People enjoy meeting there.

Most importantly, it’s a great place to hide.

The depths are where things get chaotic… uncertain… frightening.

Few are willing to journey there, and even fewer are willing to stay, but we can’t conquer what’s there unless we’re willing to try.

It may not be pretty, but the results are life-changing.

There’s the ideal place in your mind. Then there’s the place you are right now.

While many would suggest taking the steps from here to there as a process, what we need to be careful of is the destination itself.

The ideal is just an idea. It’s a moving target that constantly shifts because it’s not where you are right now and since we’ve never been there, we don’t know how to envision it properly (which is why so many of us look towards others as a reference point).

Right now is where things need to happen.

This moment is where things need to work.

Instead of considering how to get to an ideal place, it might be better to ask how to create it with what you have right now.

It’s one that is played every day with no sight of a plateau. There is never a point where you “make it.”

Even those who have been winning it for years, decades even, still have to play every morning. It becomes easier with each victory as the rules slowly change in your favour each win, but it’s never automatic.

It’s still a battle that needs to be fought.

You can set the odds highly in your favour using two powerful levers: accountability and environment.

Get those two levers in place and the fight will seem manageable. Then, it’s up to you to win today…

then get up again tomorrow to win again.