Reframe Your Inbox (Slumbering Thunder Edition)
Happy (belated) Pi Day. After a few puzzled responses in recent weeks, it occurred to me that it’s likely only Americans who note this annual occurrence. In the eyes of the rest of the world, writing the date mm-dd-yyyy may be a “mad anomaly,” as The Guardian put it. But at least it gives us a nerdy excuse for extra dessert.
(Know someone who likes pie and email newsletters? Point them here to subscribe.)
Anyway, here are 3.14 things this week:
FIRST THING
The fifth installment of my “Radical Rethink” series is taking a little longer than expected. It should go live early next week. In the meantime, an article I published in December 2017 titled “When faith in government evaporates” feels particularly relevant this week:
What we’re experiencing today is an era of distrust, not just disagreement. Disagreement is essential for a healthy democracy; distrust extinguishes it. And today, the reservoir of trust has been thoroughly emptied, drained drop-by-drop by what Washington Post columnist Michael Gerson aptly described as the Trump administration’s “spectacular accumulation of lies.” That matters as much for the routine, everyday business of government as it does for the major crises. […]
[W]hat makes it impossible to take the administration at its word is that it has lied so relentlessly and so shamelessly so many times about issues both petty and profound that we have absolutely no idea when it’s making an honest, good-faith case. Americans rely on the federal government, but many people don’t understand how it works or appreciate just how significantly it impacts their lives. For the most part, they don’t need to. Implicit in that lack of awareness is a basic level of trust that government will continue, quietly and competently, to perform its many functions, from compiling monthly unemployment statistics and producing weather forecasts to making scientific investments, managing retirement programs, and organizing the Census. […]
When the reservoir of trust has been drained, the little questions we used to shake off instead fester and grow, upsetting the shared foundation upon which our democracy rests. It makes cynics and conspiracy theorists of us all.
You can read the full article here. And if you missed the last article in the “Radical Rethink” series, check it out here.
SECOND THING
As many of you will soon read (I hope), chapter five of Reframe the Day is about making more time for the people and activities that matter most to you. You can nudge your days in a more fulfilling direction by reframing what you care most about as a responsibility, rather than a reward you get to enjoy only after you’ve checked all the other burdens and obligations off the day’s to-do list.
My friend Brian has lived this idea pretty much as long as I’ve known him, which at this point is close to 30 years. Since last summer, though, he’s really been taking it to heart—in the form of a year-long bike adventure through South America. A year ago this time, he was working in M&A at a big professional services company. Now he’s somewhere in Chile, traveling with only what he can carry on his bike, publishing epic photos and anecdotes and reflections on his blog, Diarios de Bicicleta.
The question many people might ask is… why? Why give up the well-paying job and comfortable California life (and the ability to watch Space Jam at any moment)? As Brian put it in one of his posts last June:
The most important reason why, is: Why not? Challenge is my closest companion. I am inspired by ideas which teeter on the edge of possibility. So once I realized that I had the means, the desire, the capability and opportunity to make this idea happen – How could I not try? […]
This trip is not just about biking. It’s about putting myself completely out of my comfort zone. It’s about developing the dimensions of a personality that was becoming all too linear after spending ten years toggling between Excel, Outlook, and Powerpoint. I’m learning Spanish. I’ll have time to read and write, to exercise the long dormant creative side of my brain. I’ll study the history and culture of each country I pass through. I’ll be forced to escape my introverted tendencies to ask locals and other travelers about routes, garner recommendations, solve problems, and simply avoid loneliness.
And by traveling via bicycle, I’ll be able to see the in-between places that tourist buses skip over in their rush from one magazine-fold destination to another. On a bicycle, I’ll learn to live sparingly with only the belongings that I truly need. On a bicycle, I’ll have the freedom to go where I want, when I want — albeit, not that quickly! But I want to experience things slowly, without the pressure to see everything and anything before rushing back to my office after a week of frenzied travel.
If you read more about Brian’s adventures at Diarios de Bicicleta, you might pack your stuff and fly to South America the next day (suggestion: think that through first). Or you might just take a couple extra moments to consider whether you can make some small tweaks to your day. Can you spend a little less time responding to emails, and a little more time practicing a craft? Can you dial back your determination to spend every minute being busy and productive and focused on getting things done? Can you make a bit more time for the activities and people you care about?
THIRD THING
“I am resolved to make a mark in the world.… There is some of the slumbering thunder in my soul and it shall come out.”
I came across this great line from former President James A. Garfield in Candice Millard’s Destiny of the Republic, which tells the gripping story of Garfield’s amazing (and tragically abbreviated) life.
Slumbering thunder in my soul. What a phrase. Hopefully it doesn’t send this email to your spam folder.
.1FOURTH THING
We’re all inundated by news and advice and worst-case projections about the coronavirus. It’s scary stuff. I won’t add more to the pandemic media deluge here, except to share one tiny, seemingly insignificant way I’ve sought to reframe my response to it.
Whenever I go to wash my hands, which I aim to do approximately 9,000 times a day, I try not to scrub mindlessly and distractedly before racing back to my regularly scheduled life. I try to use the handwashing as an opportunity to slow down, take a breath, and bring myself back into the present. It’s funny how I don’t hesitate to spend hours on my devices, reading different versions of the same anxiety-inducing news, yet setting aside 20 seconds in the middle of a busy day can feel like an impossible burden. Who has time for that?
Instead of spending those 20 seconds thinking, “I really need to get back to work on this thing and that thing and that other thing,” I try to practice a little awareness, focusing on the feel of the water on my hands, or visualizing the numbers one through 20. That helps me transform the burden of endless handwashing into an opportunity to press the reset button.
Sometimes these brief moments of awareness are all it takes to clear the mind. It feels like we need that clarity more than ever these days.
Stay safe out there. As always, thanks for reading.
—Adam