A case of the Mondays

I used to get very anxious every Sunday night. Without realizing it–until I left a toxic job–I was dreading the Monday morning meeting. The meeting that often left me feeling insufficient. That I wasn’t doing good enough.

Now I realize something…

Most of us don’t actually hate the day of the week Monday. Monday just exists for us to keep track of the dates. What we don’t like is that we are committed to showing up on Monday morning.

That takes a ton of work to build a life you don’t wake up and dread living. Not everyone is so lucky to have that chance.

Now looking back, it wasn’t an ideal situation and I should have just quit sooner. But the days would have gone better if I would have learned early on that it is far more productive to love what you do rather than do what you love. Because despite our best efforts, we still have to do things we don’t want to do often.

If you have to show up to the Monday morning meeting, you might as well find a way to enjoy it instead.

Working together

Humans are better together. Thousands of years ago, if you broke your leg, that would be a death sentence. There would be no way to get food or to outrun sabertooth tigers. Until we started working together. Because if the role was reversed, we would be so grateful to have a hand.

Since then, we moved to tribes, then to communities, to towns, and now to major metropolitan areas. With so many people around yet, it can still feel lonely. Almost like a wilderness, minus the predators. We forget that the culture works better when we stop and notice someone in need and act. We are not alone, we just act like it.

“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”

The gap

The gap between what we see and what is actually happening.

The gap between what we want to hear and what we need to hear.

The gap between what we say and what we actually do.

These are two very different things informed by internal narration and story.

How we cherry-pick information to inform the story (not to change it).

And if we are not careful, that gap can become a chasm making the leap to the truth more difficult to cross.

Hence why things can feel impossible because from our point of view it is.

Looking through a keyhole

Think about the Revolutionary War for a minute. How would you imagine or describe it?

Okay, now how much of it did you cover?

Which statistics do you know? How many died? How long was it fought for? Who lost what? Which locations? What was it like taking care of the wounded? What were the key moments and people?

It turns out, there are a lot of blank spaces between what we know and what could be taught. And so we imagine and skip the rest.

We really don’t understand because we have a very incomplete picture. And that is how we understand most things–“I get the just of it.”

The only destination we can all agree upon

There is only one guarantee. That someday, we all pass this life. Therefore, it must be on our compass. Due north. Because that is where we all meet in the end.

Most of us are distracted by this fact. If we keep ourselves occupied enough, we feel like maybe we can escape this.

But I think we need to operate the other way around.

If I were to tell you tomorrow, you would lose your eyesight, what would you do? You would spend all day looking at the flowers, looking at the faces of loved ones, and staring at the sunset. You would soak in every last experience and appreciate it. When we acknowledge the fact that impermanence is real and that each day is a gift, we take the posture of a warrior. When we prepare for the end–we don’t forget to take everything we have for granted. Time slows down when we are mindful. There is no rush to get through where we are.

Don’t run from this moment just to embrace the next. The moments are finite.

Who are you?

Are you an artist? A singer? An executive for a Fortune 500 Company? A doctor or lawyer?

Who are you?

When we define ourselves by our output, we will forever be caught in the trap of comparison. Because there is always someone who makes more money, is more proficient, has more followers, and is more popular than you.

When our self-worth is tied to these outcomes, we then care more about them. The result is separate from the effort though. Which begs then, how do we define who you are?

Are you a product of the environment? The sum of your choices? Your resume? Your accolades, bank account, or collection of artifacts?

How do you define yourself? I guarantee there is more there to define.


Perfect options don’t exist. I would love for the next decision I make to fix all the problems I have and for the world at the same time. There are no perfect options available.

There are just options.

Some are better than others. Therefore, we need to look for the next best thing.

Here’s the good news. By surpassing perfect and switching to good enough, you are now contributing to forward motion. Which is how things are changed.

Write a blog

The most important blog post is the one you sit down and write. Even if no one reads it. It is so powerful to look back and see which ideas have held up and which ones crumble over time.

Opinions are opinions. They change with the times and seasons. You can look in the mirror and see the inconsistencies of yesterday but to actually read them is such a powerful experience.

So much of what I have written seven years ago, I don’t actually agree with today. That’s the evolutionary process. If someone ever wants to know what goes on my brain, it is now documented.

Every big project or movement starts as an idea. And that is what a blog does, it helps you sort and constantly look for them.

Do yourself a favor, and write your thoughts down. Start a blog. It is an enormous gift for yourself and the people around you.

Art is your definition

Fountain, 1917.

When Marcel Duchamp submitted Fountain to the 1917 Society of Independent Artists, it shocked the world. How can a toilet be art?

It turns out anything could be art.

Art is anything we do that brings emotional labor to the table to make a connection.

Fountain didn’t require the same technical skill as putting paint on a canvas but having the guts to submit it was extraordinary (assuming it was Duchamp’s work, to begin with).

Andy Warhol followed the same line. So did Jackson Pollock. And so does Shepard Fairey and Banksy today.

The line of art is where we draw it. What is stopping you from creating art every day?