Happy Saturday!
I hope you’re having a lovely first day of April and start to your weekend.
What I’ve been up to:
It's been a week of writing, a bit of reading, and a lot of work. I have some big (and uncertain) life decisions coming up, and I'm not quite sure how to make them.
I've prioritized meditation this past week, putting it in my calendar, and continue to be amazed at its effects.
I'm heading to a cottage in Niagara with friends for some good food, good fun, and good company.
Here's a recap of the most interesting ideas I've explored this week.
Enjoy.
✍️ quote i’m pondering:
Jean-Paul Sartre, French playwright, on the dangers of waiting:
"I have led a toothless life, he thought. A toothless life. I have never bitten into anything. I was waiting. I was reserving myself for later on—and I have just noticed that my teeth have gone."
📚 book passage i loved:
Now, at seventy-two, I realize every minute doing one thing is a minute not doing something else, every choice is another choice not made, another path grown over and lost.
If asked my philosophy, it would be simply this: Savor life, don’t press too hard, don’t worry too much. Or as the old-timers say, “Enjoy.”
― When I Stop Talking, You'll Know I'm Dead by Jerry Weintraub
💡 essay from me: blind success
There's an old parable I love about a rich American businessman and a Mexican fisherman.
The American was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village on vacation when a small boat with just one local fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of fish and asked how long it took to catch them.
"Only a little while," the fisherman replied. The American then asked why he didn't stay out longer and catch more fish. The Mexican said he had enough to support his family's needs. The American, dumfounded, asked, "But, what do you do with the rest of your time?"
The fisherman explained, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siestas with my wife, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine, and play guitar with my friends. I have a full and busy life."
The American scoffed. "I am a Harvard MBA and I could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. Then, with the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats. Eventually, you would have a fleet of fishing boats."
"You can sell your catch directly to the processor and open up your own cannery. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually New York City, where you will run your expanding enterprise."
The fisherman asked, "But, how long will this all take?"
"15-20 years"
"But what then?" asked the Mexican.
The American laughed and said, "That's the best part. When the time is right you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions!"
"Millions," the fisherman echoed. "Then what?"
"Then you would retire! Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your children, take siestas with your wife, stroll into the village each evening where you could sip wine, and play guitar with your friends."
At a fundamental level, we all want to live a good life.
But, we’re taught to use external things—money, in this case—as a proxy for a good life. A more concrete target to aim at. We inherently assume there's a sense of happiness, fulfillment, and satisfaction that lies behind these external things, if we can achieve them. Or else why would we want them?
So we pursue the proxy of the good feeling we seek, rather than the feeling itself.
But, somewhere along the way, we forget why we want these external things because we're lost in the chase. In competing. In striving. In rushing. When we taste a bit, but still feel empty, devoid of the good feeling we were promised, we don’t question the value of the thing itself but reckon we haven't tasted enough, and perhaps after a bit more, we'll finally feel it.
It's fundamental Buddhist wisdom that you’re never going to be made happy because of some external circumstance. You will always adapt to what you have. There will always be someone with more. The goalposts will always move.
Naval: The idea you’re going to change something in the outside world, and that is going to bring you the peace, everlasting joy, and happiness you deserve, is a fundamental delusion we all suffer from… When you're finally wealthy, you'll realize that it wasn't what you were seeking in the first place.
The proxy is flawed.
It doesn’t take long to find people who have money (or status or success or followers), the things that are supposed to lay the brick on our path to the good life, that are miserable. In mathematics, you only need one counterexample to disprove something. There are millions.
Happiness doesn't lie behind those proxies, only a compulsive hunger for more.
I'm learning that success, for me, has little to do with the external world. It’s independent of net worth, networks and the opinions of others. Success is a feeling. I feel successful when I have no worries. When I'm happy. When I can enjoy life, and I'm not tense or anxious.
I'm learning that good feeling doesn't exist far off in the future, but here, now, in this small moment. But only if I release my dependency on the future. And only if I look for it.
I’m learning the importance of simple awareness. Like fish swimming in water, we're blind to the abundance and love and wonder that exists all around us. The joy that can be found in the simplest things. The beauty of nature, of clear skies and sunshine, of fresh air, of good food, of laughter with loved ones, of quiet moments alone.
Anthony de Mello: You want to hope for something better than what you have right now, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be hoping. But then, you forget that you have it all right now anyway, and you don’t know it.
As a friend said to me last week: if you want to be happy, you're going to have to let go eventually. So why not let go now?
So I'm trying to open my eyes. Be more aware. Aware of “what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, all the time” (DFW). Remind myself of everything I have now. That, in this small intimate moment, nothing is missing. That what I need will come, when I need it.
Instead of hoping for something better, remember that I have it all right now anyway, and I just don’t know it.
❓ question i’m asking:
A question on self-kindness and compassion:
What if you forgave yourself for your little stumbles, mistakes and moments of imperfection today instead of beating yourself up by regretting and resenting them?
📸 photo of the week:
I came across this old pic from when I swam in the glacially cold waters of Moraine Lake, with the famous Ten Peaks in the background.
Despite my initial skepticism, I’ve grown to love cold exposure (showers, mostly). I’ve noticed its improved both my physical and mental health.
If you want to subscribe, click the button below!
If my writing resonated, if you have feedback, or if you just want to be friends, please reach out 😊
Reply to this email, leave a comment, or find me on Twitter @tommy_dixon_
Much love to you and yours,
Tommy
There was a time I worked one full-time and two part-time jobs, about eighty hours a week for a little over seven years. I say to myself "I would rather live under a bridge homeless then fall into trap again". But I'm still hoping for that early retirement 😜
Fantastic as usual