Subtract To Get To Your Truth

“Knowledge is subtractive, not additive—what we subtract (reduction by what does not work, what not to do), not what we add (what to do).”

— Nassim Taleb

On August 6th, 1986, Bob Dylan walked off the stage at Paso Robles State Fairgrounds alongside Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers and he knew he was done. Dylan had one more stretch of shows lined up with Petty the following year—The Temples in Flames Tour—but after that, it was time to hang it up.

It had been 25 years since an unassuming kid from Hibbing, Minnesota showed up in Greenwich Village to immerse himself alongside his heroes in the folk-music community. And it was a legendary run. But Dylan acknowledged the reality of what his fans, critics, and peers had already voiced, his best days were behind him.

Dylan could no longer fill stadiums on his own and had to rely on big names like Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers or The Grateful Dead to draw crowds. He struggled to write new material—not that he had much desire to do so. And despite the hundreds of songs he had written over the course of his career, there were only a handful he would consider playing. 

During the Summer tour in 1986, Benmont Tench, the keyboardist in Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, often pleaded with Dylan to include different songs in the set, like “Spanish Harlem Incident” or “Chimes of Freedom.” Dylan would muster up some excuse or play it off until he was able to divert the attention away from himself. 

The reality is that he could no longer remember where most of the songs he wrote came from. He couldn’t relate to or understand how he might even attempt to bring those songs back to life. They were a mystery lost to the past. 

Dylan’s plan was to coast through the final tour with the same 20 songs and try to come out unscathed before he went into hiding. That was the deal he made with himself to get through one more run.

The next year before kicking off his final tour with Petty, Dylan was scheduled to play a few shows with The Grateful Dead. He traveled to San Rafael, California to rehearse with The Dead at their studio. After an hour of rehearsal, it was clear that the strategy he used with Petty wasn’t going to work. The Dead were adamant about playing different songs from the depths of Dylan’s catalog. Material he could barely recall. 

He sat panicked and knew he had to get out. The Dead were asking for someone he felt no longer existed. During a lull in the rehearsal, Dylan falsely claimed he left something at the hotel. He stepped out of the studio and onto Front Street to plan his escape.

After wandering for a few blocks, Dylan heard music coming from the door of a small bar and figured that was as good of a place to hide out as any. Only a few patrons stood inside and the walls were baked in cigarette smoke. Towards the back of the bar, a jazz quartet rattled off old ballads like “Time On My Hands.” Dylan ordered a drink and studied the singer—an older man in a suit and tie. As the singer navigated the songs, it was relaxed, not forceful. He eased into them with natural power and instinct. 

As Dylan listened on, there was something familiar in the way the old jazz singer approached the songs. It wasn’t in his voice, it was in the song itself. Suddenly, it brought Dylan back to himself and something he once knew but had lost over the years—a way back to his songs. 

Earlier in his career, Dylan wasn’t worried about the image that others projected upon him, the expectations, or the fame. All he cared about was connecting with the song and doing it the justice it deserved. He was there to bring the words to life—a conduit of sorts. The old jazz singer had reminded him of this simple truth and where to pull from.

Returning to The Grateful Dead’s rehearsal hall, Dylan picked up where he left off like nothing happened. He was rusty and it would take years for him to truly get back to form, but he settled back into a state of relaxed concentration by returning to his principles that were buried underneath all the success, failure, praise, and criticism.

As he continued the final tour with Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, over the first four shows Dylan played 80 different songs, never repeating a single one, just to see if he could do it. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t always pretty. But he was starting to tap back into himself and knew how to reach the music again. 

Where am I?

In our own lives, we inevitably reach moments where we feel like we’ve lost ourselves along the way. Where am I? How did I get here? What am I even trying to do? We feel like fragments of our former selves. Exhausted rather than energized by the challenges we face. 

Dylan is not alone in his experience. When we lose the connection to ourselves, our work, careers, and lives grow stagnant. We can’t create anything meaningful if we’re absently going through the motions. Gradually, then suddenly we become strangers to ourselves. 

As the emptiness creeps in, there’s a temptation to go into hiding. We fixate on our faults and let that feeling wash over us. We lose ourselves in the darkness. And when we get stuck here, we compromise our own integrity and the integrity of our work.

Life is deceptive in this way. We overcomplicate things. We inflate the importance of things that don’t really matter. We lose track of what brings us to life—the things we find deeper meaning in. We let our guiding principles fall out of focus. 

In the messiness of life, we make small compromises that add up over time. We say yes to the wrong things and no to the right ones. Things start to pile up. And the more we stack on top of ourselves, the deeper we bury our own priorities. Eventually, the weight of it all drags us down and obscures our vision. 

At this point, we can continue adding more, doing more, always saying yes, never saying no, breaking ourselves to meet the expectations cast upon us. We can continue floundering and creating more distance from ourselves. Or we can step back and ask, is this still serving me? What do I need to shed to come back to myself? What’s at my foundation?

Finding our way back

Sometimes the way back to yourself is through subtraction. 

This starts with peeling back the layers that have built up over the years.

What’s hidden underneath it all? 
What was your original motivation in your work? 
What got you here in the first place? 
What did you know then that you’ve since forgotten? 
What about this once brought you joy?

Finding a way to return to the simple truths we once knew can help us realign ourselves. Our foundation reminds us of what we set out for.

Far too often we attribute our identities to things that are beyond our control. We get caught up chasing what’s external to us because we trick ourselves into believing that’s what makes us who we are. But we are not our jobs, companies, titles, or paychecks. We are not the criticism, praise, accolades, or rejection we face. We exist beyond that. 

When we are just starting out, we instinctively understand this. We focus on internals and creating from what we know to be true about ourselves. We build from what inspires us. And that is enough. Because that’s all we really know. 

As Dylan faced this struggle, inspiration from an unlikely source brought him back to a beginner’s mindset and the principles he understood early in his career before everything got so carried away. Performing was about reaching for the truth within the song and putting that front and center. 

This mindset allowed him to tap back into himself. He was able to once again find meaning in his songs and remember why he was doing what he was doing. He embraced his responsibility to perform each song to the best of his ability. 

From this point on, Dylan focused on playing smaller theaters and more intimate shows—drawing songs from every stage of his career, reinterpretations, new songs, and rarities. Returning to the basic truths he lost along the way led to his resurgence as an artist. Rather than signaling the end of his career, The Temples in Flames Tour helped Dylan uncover the start of something new.

Letting go to remember

Connecting back to yourself starts with cutting away the nonessentials and reminding yourself how you found your way here in the first place. Subtract to get to the truth of things. 

In the process of letting go, you start to remember who you are and what you find meaning in. 

This doesn’t mean you should try to recreate the past. You can’t go back in time. Dylan wasn’t trying to bring a younger version of himself back to life. He was just returning to the principles that set everything in motion and rebuilding from there.

A beginner’s mindset can help you distill the real parts of yourself—the anchors that give you substance and depth. By paring down to what’s real and what’s within your control, you tap back into what sustains you. And as you sift through the rock, dirt, and debris, you free yourself to move with conviction towards bringing your best work to life. 

10 Lessons on the Road to 33

Birthdays and New Years serve as two natural checkpoints for me. Birthdays act as a time to reflect on what I’ve learned and consider lessons that have resonated strongest over that year of my life. Whereas New Years signal it’s time to set five primary goals and assess how well I did against the previous year’s goals. Most years I publish these reflections, the following are 10 lessons that stood out most over the past year. 

1) Show up, even when it’s inconvenient 

Fighting through canceled flights, delays, and traffic jams to show up for someone when they need it most, even if you’re only there for an hour, matters. Regardless of what plans you might have made for your evening or weekend. The timing of events beyond your control might be inconvenient. But the universe isn’t on your agenda. And there isn’t some perfect version of the future where your life is free of challenges. The challenges and obstacles are what give life meaning. You can point to those as your excuse, or you can show up anyway when it matters most. 

2) Commitment adds meaning

Just as obstacles add meaning, so too does commitment—whether your relationships, career, hobbies, you name it. Directions in life are mutually exclusive. In my early 20s, I optimized for optionality and never committed to anything. Many of these things were unfulfilling and left me restless. But once I started to cross options off my list and double down on the people and things I cared about most, life became far more rewarding.

Getting married to my favorite person in the world this summer after six years together has continued to deepen our relationship. The same goes for my career and the way it has been accelerated by committing to problems I care about solving and the vision we’ve crafted around solving those. 

3) You don’t have to agree with the entirety of someone’s opinions

Almost everyone has good ideas and bad ideas. And you don’t have to agree with the entirety of them. One good idea doesn’t mean every idea that a person has is worthwhile. Just as one bad idea doesn’t mean the entirety of that person’s ideas are garbage. This lesson shows up frequently for me in books. When I was younger, I would take the entirety of an author’s ideas in a book as truth. Now I find myself more often disagreeing with certain aspects, and that’s fine. This ability to balance multiple opposing views and perspectives is what leads to improved critical thinking. This also speaks to the danger of ideologies and blindly accepting a docket of opinions without thinking for yourself. Guard yourself against this at all costs. 

4) More music, less everything else

During the pandemic, this got away from me. I didn’t have my regular outlets at coffee shops or commutes to let go and listen to music. It was all work, all the time. And in the brief moments when I wasn’t working, we were watching Netflix. But music is the thing that allows me to reach a state of relaxed concentration where I do my best work. Making more time for this, creating focus blocks throughout my day to tune everything else out, and starting my day with music while reading or writing in the morning makes me happier. And the same goes for evenings at home. Just turning on music instead of the TV feels more rewarding than whatever show we might be watching. 

5) Focus on what’s within your control

As long as I’m around, I don’t think I’ll ever shut up about this. Focus more on yourself. Every second you spend projecting or losing yourself in imaginary conversations consumed by others’ opinions is truly wasted. Focus back on yourself. Most people waste away consumed by distractions without ever searching within. If there’s any sort of secret in this life, it’s figuring out what you want out of life, reframing that as an internal goal you can actually influence, and pursuing it with everything you’ve got. 

6) Happiness is knowing less about what’s going on in most people’s lives, not more

Comparison is the death of joy. Most people are far too connected and could use more distance. I can only speak to my life, but I am far happier when I know less about people outside of my closest group of friends and family. And that’s a group of about 10 people. Beyond that, it’s just noise. 

Certainly, you must care for your community. But your capacity to give a shit is limited. You have to pick your battles. Anyone who claims they can keep up with everyone and every cause is virtue signaling. Instead, focus on yourself and your family, fight for your cause, and ignore the bullshit. There’s only one way out of the noise most people find themselves consumed by—distance yourself.

7) In-person interactions hold company’s together

I’ve worked fully remote at different points in my career. I’ve never actively sought it out, it’s just worked out that way and I was rather indifferent to it. But over the course of the pandemic, I’ve changed my stance entirely. If your intention is to create an enduring company of top performers who band together to overcome challenging moments, co-located teams will crush remote teams. Fully remote teams sacrifice camaraderie, morale, and meaning in the name of short-term productivity. My expectation is that most fully remote teams will self-destruct over the next few years because they won’t be able to absorb the higher turnover caused by a lack of human connection. 

8) Appeal to Your audience’s self-interest

Whether it’s a presentation, email, article, you name it, most people start by focusing on what they want to say. That’s exactly the wrong path if you’re hoping to land your message. Instead, ALWAYS start by putting yourself in your audience’s position and emphasizing the benefit from their perspective. Addressing the ‘What’s in it for me?’ question within the first 30 seconds is the only way to capture attention, disarm, and influence.

9) your first responsibility is to shut up and listen

I’m surprised at how common this problem is. A new hire joins the company, insecure and eager to prove their value, they immediately jump to providing feedback and solutions without having any context of the business, the product, or the team. And in doing so, they immediately erode any semblance of trust and have to work twice as hard to rebuild that over months. Seems like a fun way to start. This seems especially rampant in senior leaders who come into companies and should know this lesson better than anyone else, but they turn out to be the worst offenders. 

During your first 30 days at any company, just shut up and listen. Regardless of what level you’re coming in at. True confidence can look like keeping your mouth shut and simply listening. This will help you build deep relationships that will serve you far better than attempting to offer up empty feedback that lacks context and only draws attention to your attempts to overcompensate.

10) to command respect, be fearless

Timidity kills careers. Jump into the deep end. Raise your hand. Aspire to always have skin in the game and never act like you’re above the work. Regardless if you’re a middle manager, executive, or individual contributor, the work matters. You certainly have to know how to delegate. Otherwise, you’ll drown. But there will be occasional points where you must go deep on the subject and fight alongside your team in the trenches. If you avoid this second piece, you will never command respect from your team. 

The Danger in Projecting Your Most Important Thing

After graduating from college, I poured most of my time and energy into triathlons. That was my most important thing. And it stayed that way for most of my 20s. I optimized my days for training across each discipline—swimming, cycling, and running. 

When I went out on my bike, I’d ride with a group of cyclists twice a week. For years they would throw shade my way for not showing up to as many rides as they did. They couldn’t understand why their most important thing wasn’t mine. Their attitude towards me was dismissive—triathletes were just flaky, wannabe cyclists who couldn’t commit to one sport. And if we’re being honest, I harbored a similar sentiment in return. 

There’s a certain level of arrogance most of us hold with our own priorities. We believe, to varying degrees, that our most important thing is often the right thing for everyone. Our priorities take precedence.

But while it’s important to build confidence in your own path, presuming you know best and projecting that same path upon everyone else is hubris. To avoid spiraling past this golden mean, it requires humility. Without this, you become rigid and inflexible. You squander your limited time and energy on things beyond your control. And your relationships are worse for it. 

You are only responsible for yourself, your path, and identifying your most important things. Every second you spend consumed by what you believe other people should want is truly wasted. You are never going to change or help someone by prescribing what they should do with their life. You’re just going to piss them off. And in doing so, you’ll begin to stagnate as your focus drifts from your own life. 

The counterbalance to losing alignment with this golden mean—the place where you build confidence and trust in your own direction while respecting other’s differences—is reminding yourself that not everyone will share the same goal as you. Not everyone is your competition. Different people will have different priorities, and that’s okay as long as it isn’t harmful to society. All you can hope for is that everyone is thoughtful in their own approach. 

This manifests itself in different ways depending on your priorities. Consider your career and lifestyle. You might think someone is crazy to leave (or stay with) your company based on the opportunities available and the company’s trajectory. But that’s based on your vantage point, your level of engagement, and your aspirations. Rather than judging their decision—something beyond your control—all you can do is hope that they were thoughtful and made the best decision for themselves. What’s right for you right now will not be the same for everyone else you work with. And the same holds true for your lifestyle. 

When I was younger, it used to shock me that people would stay and raise their kids in the same town they grew up in. Weren’t they missing the opportunity to discover themselves and wreck their comfort zones by moving somewhere new? But my judgment assumed their priorities and mindset were identical to mine, which is exactly wrong. If someone’s most important thing is deepening their roots in the community they grew up in, all that matters is that they’ve aligned themselves to that. And while I will never have this experience, it’s something I’ve grown to appreciate as equally valuable.

Not everyone needs to see the world the same way as you. You don’t need to convince people you are right. The best you can hope for is to achieve a sense of alignment and authenticity within yourself. And respect when other people are trying to do the same. Besides, the world would be rather uninspiring if everyone held identical values and pursued the same paths. 

Your perspective and the principles you live by are what define you, your art, and your life. Trust that. Find solace in your direction. But don’t presume it’s for everyone. And don’t allow others to throw you off your game. 

The Greeks had a term for this—euthymia, which Seneca defined as “believing in yourself and trusting you are on the right path, and not being in doubt by following the myriad of footpaths of those wandering in every direction.” The key is that this starts and ends with yourself. 

Until I worked this out, I’d waste a soul-crushing amount of time judging and dismissing other people because of my own insecurities. It wasn’t malicious or all-consuming, but it was decidedly unproductive. When I developed the awareness to recognize this, I was able to better hone my own focus. In turn, this unlocked all the time and energy I wasted worrying about other people and allowed me to channel that towards my own growth. And that’s when I was able to define a stronger direction for my own life. There was nowhere to run when I faced uncomfortable conversations with myself. I couldn’t point to other people as a distraction to avoid self-reflection.

In my own life, self-sufficiency (within reason) is my guiding principle. I want to have skin in the game and make my own way, rather than spectating and criticizing from a distance. I believe voluntary hardship and forgoing too much convenience are key to living a fulfilled life. In moments that force me to choose between comfort and growth, I almost always choose growth. No matter how painful that is. But I no longer pretend to believe it’s for everyone. Directions in life are mutually exclusive. And it’s important to respect divergent paths because those differences are what make life interesting. 

Building confidence in your own path is a critical skill if you want to live a meaningful life. It’s the golden mean between self-doubt and hubris. Find your thing. Trust in your path. Figure out what you’re after in your own life and double down on that, knowing your priorities are unique to you. 

When you stop worrying about what everyone else is focused on and play your own game, you can better navigate distractions and channel that energy towards the things that matter most—actually listening to those around you and making meaningful progress towards your own priorities. 

“There are hundreds of paths up the mountain, all leading in the same direction, so it doesn’t matter which path you take. The only one wasting time is the one who runs around and around the mountain, telling everyone that his or her path is wrong.”

— Hindu proverb

15 Lessons I Learned Before Turning 31

31 feels slightly less monumental than 30. Last year, I reflected on the most important lessons learned over the course of my 20s. But there are no off-years in life. If you’re doing it right, each one offers new experiences and opportunities to grow.

Every year I create checkpoints to consider lessons learned, challenges I’ve faced, and progress I’ve made. Birthdays are one of those triggers to step back and administer a healthy dose of perspective. 

I’ve found that the true test of how much I’ve learned in the previous year is considering myself at that same point in time 365 days ago. If I laugh at how stupid I was, that’s a good sign. Investor, Ray Dalio, shares a similar sentiment, “It seems to me that if you look back on yourself a year ago and aren't shocked by how stupid you were, you haven't learned much.”

The years I’ve been able to look back and contemplate how much I’ve learned, despite laughing at the expense of my younger self, have been the most rewarding.

This year was an important one for me. Although it’s not as big of a milestone as 30, this year was full of little victories, failures, and lessons. I’ve learned as much as I ever have in a single year. Here are some of the most important lessons that have stuck with me.

1) What matters most is the ability to bounce back

There will be times you fail to rise to the occasion. What matters most is the ability to bounce back. It’s one of the most critical skills you can build in life.

I’ve learned this time and time again in my career. You can’t expect perfect conditions each step of the way. Things are going to break, you’re going to run into ignorant people, and there will be times that you face an onslaught of obstacles with no end in sight. What matters is that you find a way to come back with a fresh perspective each day, ready to try again. 

The best teams I know embrace imperfections beyond their control and contribute something meaningful anyway. The worst teams self-destruct because they’re too busy obsessing over inconveniences. 

2) Experiences can still surprise you

I’ve been fortunate enough to have traveled to dozens of beautiful places across the world. I believe the more you travel, the more perspective you build – an invaluable gift in life. But the catch is that the more you travel, the more you seem to lose the novelty of first-time experiences. 

I will never have the same feeling that I did the first time I went dogsledding in the arctic circle, kayaking in the Milford Sound, or camping in the Vietnamese jungle inside Hang En cave.

But this year, I went to South Africa and was surprised to discover that elusive feeling in the raw experience of a safari and in the bliss of the beautiful countryside of Babylonstoren, one of the oldest Cape Dutch farms. If you keep an open mind and maintain an appreciation for life in all its forms, experiences will never cease to amaze you.

3) Convenience is worth paying for

Five years ago, “frugal” would have been one of the best adjectives to describe me. Over the past few years I’ve let that go in favor of convenience. And this comes from learning to value my time properly. 

My routine for years has been to write at a coffee shop on Saturday afternoons. But I would always cut that short to head across town to pick up groceries, an absolute nightmare on weekends. This year, instead of interrupting myself during this time, I’ve started using a grocery delivery service. 

On average, I save two hours of uninterrupted focus time. And it only costs me five extra dollars. At a certain point, you have to learn that time is the most valuable thing you have. 

4) Reversibility matters more than certainty in your decisions 

Time is far more valuable than a marginally better solution. To help make faster decisions, I’ve started asking myself, “How reversible is this decision?” If it’s easily reversible, I make it right there. Assessing decisions based on reversibility, rather than certainty of the potential outcome, has improved my decision making significantly. 

Slow, deliberate decision-making can be a significant advantage in avoiding massive mistakes. But the reality is that most decisions you make on a daily basis aren’t permanent in nature. There’s a time and place to use this level of deep thought and consideration. Not when it comes to picking a restaurant for dinner or testing a new layout for the landing page of your website. 

5) Success doesn’t come from preventing things from falling through the cracks

This is about building a systems mentality. In other words, developing the ability to step back and consider the interconnected whole – the structures, patterns, and cycles – instead of being blinded by a single event or moment in time. This frees you to focus your limited time and energy on what matters most. Success doesn’t come from being better at preventing things from falling through the cracks. It comes from knowing what to let fall through. 

You can identify those who have failed to build a systems mentality by how overwhelmed they get by minutiae – especially when the stakes are at their highest. They become fixated on insignificant things, gripping for control in their foolish quest for perfection. They’re unable to let the little things go.

6) Four things separate you from the top of your field

When I started my career in product, those above me seemed almost lightyears ahead in terms of their intelligence and abilities. I wouldn’t put myself anywhere close to the same category. But the more interactions I have with executives and senior leaders, the more I’m convinced that they aren’t infinitely smarter. The real difference is in their risk-taking, network, growth mindset, and a healthy dose of luck. It’s a good reminder that you’re not that far off. 

7) Don’t get pulled into races that you’re not willing to run

If I don’t create room for reflection, I often find myself getting pulled into other people’s aspirations and playing stupid games for stupid prizes – struggling to position myself on the corporate ladder, equating meetings with productivity, or seeking validation through arbitrary certifications and recognition. 

This is one of the most difficult skills to develop, sorting through the noise and determining what’s your own. As a human being, you are highly impressionable. This is great when it comes to social cohesion, but terrible when it comes to realizing your own aspirations. It’s okay if you don’t want the same things as everyone else. Just make sure you aren’t getting pulled into races that you’re not willing to run.

8) People are amazingly consistent in their behaviors

Another way of saying this is that everyone gets what’s coming to them – for better or worse. It’s just a matter of time. Habits and behaviors projected over the course of years dictate future conditions and outcomes. The trouble is that when you’re young and could use this advice the most, your perspective of time is too shallow to really grasp the lesson.

I see examples of talented, hardworking people catching breaks every month. I also see examples of grown adults clinging to the same identity they had in college who are paying dearly for short-sighted decisions in their careers, health, and relationships.

Use this as motivation to focus on getting the conditions right, developing better habits, and playing the long game. With this mindset, it’s just a matter of time before you start catching breaks. 

9) Compound interest from reading is no joke

After five years of reading 50+ nonfiction books each year, it’s only within the past few months that I’ve felt like I’ve been able to make seamless connections and pull relevant stories on demand. Once you form these connections, you propel yourself forward with a wealth of vicarious experience. 

This is critical to so many areas of life – mastering a multidisciplinary approach, identifying your guiding principles, outthinking misguided people. Without reading, you have to learn this all from direct experience. But books provide you with lifetimes of experience and perspective that you can call upon at will. 

10) Stories > instructions

Stop telling people what to do. Unless you’re running a laboratory, people don’t give a shit about instructions. Stories are the best way to communicate. If you let people interpret things for themselves, you get better results. Especially in fields that demand creative thinking. 

Of course, there are obvious exceptions and integrity matters. But you see the power of this in presentations. Speakers who use stories are able to capture the imagination of their audience. That’s what resonates with people. The same thing goes for brainstorming, design sprints, whiteboarding, and every meeting you have.

Everyone craves stories because that’s how we make sense of the world and piece together our own ideas.

11) Improv makes you a better human

I signed up for improv classes to help improve my public speaking skills. I wasn’t sure what to expect but I wanted to take a non-traditional approach. Fortunately, this has been one of the most profound experiences of my entire year. There are so many positive takeaways and important lessons that I’m planning to write a full article on the experience. 

The short version is that improv will get you out of your own head, train you to be a better listener, and wreck your comfort zone. 

If you aren’t listening with every ounce of your being, you will fail. You can’t fall back on normal cognitive patterns and predictions that you use in everyday conversations. And the constant discomfort during class forces you to embrace and accept the fact that you’re going to look like a dumbass on stage. There’s no way around it. It’s an empowering realization. I’ve since given up my attempts at perfection during presentations, which has helped me relax and improve my delivery.

12) Routine is essential to creativity

The more automatic my habits and routine become, the more energy I can pour into being creative. Ever since I carved out dedicated time and space for writing, my craft has improved significantly. Most mornings I start writing at 6:30 AM. Since I’ve built this habit over years, when I sit down at my desk in the morning I’m able to shift into a creative mindset without a colossal effort.

I often think of this quote from Gustav Flaubert, “Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.” With that being said, there is a golden mean. I have to challenge this routine on occasion to make sure it’s still working for me and I’m not becoming too rigid in my approach.

13) Drawdown periods matter

I’m excited to release my first e-book next month. But it was no small undertaking. It required five months of sustained effort. Before jumping off I had to make room for a drawdown period where I was able to prepare, rest, and reflect before starting. I knew I would need every ounce of energy I had if I wanted to get my thinking clean and bring the best version of the idea to life. 

This drawdown period was essential in helping me create a buffer where I was able to piece together and discover my own thoughts on the subject. It was an escape from being bombarded by influences and outside noise. The bigger the project, the more important it has been for me to settle my mind leading up to it. 

14) Time your vacations to avoid burnout

Over the past few years, I’ve kept track of when I start to feel like I'm burning out in a given year. And I've noticed it always occurs around the same time. So this year, I planned vacations and weekend getaways to avoid falling into the same pattern – February, May, July, August, and November.

As ridiculous as it sounds, one of my New Year’s resolutions was to take five vacations. It was a way to self enforce breaks when I would otherwise attempt to be a hero and power through things. This has made a huge difference in my wellbeing, the quality of my work, and overcoming the burnout I’ve faced in recent years. 

15) Purpose starts with meaning

Over the past year, I’ve had conversations with many people struggling with purpose. I love being able to share these deep conversations and I sympathize. That was the first ten years of my adult life – forever tiptoeing on the edge of an existential crisis. Some days I still wonder what the hell I’m doing. Purpose is such an overwhelming thing. 

But what I’ve learned, and what I try to share in these conversations, is that purpose is just the series of pieces you find meaning in. Look for where you find meaning in your day to day. By doing more of those things, you move purpose within reach. And if the quest for purpose ever becomes too much, settle for doing meaningful things instead.