Josh Allred's Blog

Meaning beginner’s mind. It’s a Zen Buddhist term that teaches us to approach life with openness by dropping the preconceived notions of how we see the world.

Imagine a cup. We can fill it with anything. But often, we choose to fill it with expectations rather than possibilities. Here’s the thing about expectations, when we feel like we deserve something or feel entitled, we leave no room for anything else. Having high expectations creates a narrow view of seeing the world of possibilities. Lowering your expectations, however, opens a door to be surprised.

I found Tim Ferriss’ interview with Terry Real incredibly insightful. Highlighting the problems I personally see in our culture with toxic individualism (doing what makes us happy), describing unpopular views of power dynamics, and tackling masculinity and patriarchy. The model for tackling recovery: 1) the Addiction, 2) Personality Issues, and 3) finally, the childhood trauma is sound. And finally, I found this section hit close to home:

Sometimes, the greatest thing we can do is change the culture of family dynamics. How are things doing around here? More importantly, how things used to be will not be tolerated going forward.

Because being without fear is not a luxury humans get to have. It isn’t a choice; it is always present. Our choice is when fear shows up–for instance, fight, flight, or freeze. We live in constant fear.

So, yes, if you can live without fear, by all means. But what is better for the majority of us that can be crippled by it is to dance with it. Dance with the fear. Because fear will never go away, much like a shadow. We might as well learn to befriend it instead. There is a reason why psychologists push for a growth mindset and not a fearless one.

(Departing thought: Perhaps something always around isn’t an enemy but a friend.)

I had the opportunity to write a short vignette piece for SLUG.

Here is the original piece:

It’s not a quiet place. After all, Wu-Tang Clan is cranking over the speakers. It isn’t a place to sit down, either. There is one picnic table to sit on, or you are left relegated to the concrete slab that fortunately is basking in the sun this morning. Central 9^th Market is a place to fill your tank. The food is something your mom made—at least something you wish she could make. The old joke that “this was made with the special ingredient of ‘love.” But this isn’t love. It is something more precise. Not so formulaic that you can’t taste what is going on. But more precise than your favorite burger joint…it fits. The kitchen is out in the open. You see two people working as chef/cashier/butcher/fry cook—guardians of local eats. The focaccia bread is stacked at the end of the tall counter. The loaves, if that is what you call them, are at least 24+ inches across by 12 inches wide. You can try a sample covered in olive oil in the front, but there is no need. You know this is good.

I wait in line and watch as other customers quietly come and go. I walk up to the counter, and order the usual comfort meal—The Breakfast Sando with a fried egg and bacon slapped with a slice of cheddar cheese (the best to melt and complete any sandwich), and sando sauce smooshed between two slices of focaccia—with a cherry limeade by Taproot—local soda to wash it down. It’s only 10 o’clock in the morning, and I don’t care about the sugar intake. I’m not hungover, but I am not exactly sober, somewhere in between. 

A few minutes later, I hear “Order for Josh.” Already, my mouth is salivating like Pavlov’s dog, hearing my name called. I rush over to the counter, throw a couple of napkins in, and grab my brown bag with my sandwich neatly wrapped inside. No show and tell here. “If you know, you know.” I walk outside, and indeed, the picnic table is open. I sit down, open up my sandwich, and take a bite. The bread is warm and crisp. The egg yolk is now spreading across the sandwich. I can hear the crunch with every bite—never getting soggy. The sando sauce is perfect. And so is life. Not because everything is perfect. Not because I am perfect. Not because this sandwich is perfect. It’s because, at this moment, everything feels perfect. For a moment, I forget my restlessness. I am just there. In the right order, in its proper place. The sun is out, and now my belly is full. I try to stay longer, but I can’t. Everything was decided before I got here, and now that I am here, I am too rigid to change plans. 

I go back in, throw away the bag, and compliment the two working in the back, thanking them for a perfect way to start the day. Now that everything is finished, I too must leave. Life is indeed impermanent. Quietly, I step out. I turn the corner and walk 24 and half steps, and on the corner of my eye, I read a sign with a grim reaper on it that says, “Fuck around, find out.” It’s Saturday. Only Saturday. 

This is the key to empathy. When we know how someone was raised, what they were taught, and what they have been through, we can understand their struggle. Of course, we are left only to imagine. But it is possible when we learn, are curious, watch, and listen—we can imagine better. If we do not take the time to learn, perhaps the next best thing we can do is assume the best. Give the benefit of the doubt. And exercise patience.

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… until you climb inside his skin and walk around in it.” — Harper Lee, To Kill A Mockingbird

If it’s true, then it must be false. And if it is false, then it must be true. In my humble opinion, the key to the meaning of life is found in this simple sentence. Life is paradoxical by nature. There is no definitive ground to stand on. There is no single answer to finding the meaning of life, which means we are left to create our own interpretation of life’s complexities.

In the end, we are trapped in this loop of reason. The unique thing that helps humans stand apart is our ability to step out of the loop and look at it from afar. We can solve problems, cooperate, work in unison, and create meaning—something no other entity (as far as we know) can do. Which makes me think we are asking the wrong question. Perhaps the better question to explore is how one experiences life rather than why.

How do people navigate life’s decisions when everything is relative? We want to have something to anchor ourselves to. Perhaps it is clarity, certainty, or safety. But going in a direction is all about a point of view. Because there is no direction in space, which makes it difficult to navigate anywhere. Picking a course without a reference point is taking a guess. We have to pick something somewhere to know where it is we want to go. That choice is yours.

The art of gift giving is to give without any attachment. No reciprocity, no status, no thank you in return, no warm feeling of doing something worthwhile–nothing. Why? While it is difficult to truly give a gift and have no attachment, it is even more difficult for the receiver not to feel the social pressure to pass it along. The community will then grow closer together as gifts are passed along freely. The irony is that for thousands of years, tribes were structured around this concept and thrived. Which teaches us that this pursuit of more should cause us to pause. More isn’t the answer. Since appetites tend to grow, not shrink. The answer isn’t the opposite of less. The answer is to give. Give your time, talents, resources, attention, emotional labor…as a result bring the community together.

Some of my favorite tools:

For clothing and accessories, you cannot go wrong with Stance Socks; lots of miles of walking, they are my go-to for comfort and style. Since I switched to SAXX Underwear, I quit chaving in the heat. If you are not using Superfeet Insoles, you’ll be paying the price down the road. Thursday Leather Belts to keep your pants up. It’s a timeless look.

For technology, I use Claude by Anthropric for almost an hour daily to help solve problems and improve my writing. (And yes, I think for most people it is much better than ChatGPT.) GoodReads to keep track of books I want to read. Speaking of books, Libby is a library app that allows users to check out audiobooks. After years of listening to Spotify, I finally got on the train for Apple Music and Podcasts. Once you go Lossless, you can’t go back. I also enjoy having separate apps for music and podcasts. Apple Health is a game changer. I love how I can keep track of my steps, and every time I visit the doctor, it updates my results, creating trends. Stava, of course, “if it isn’t on Strava, it didn’t happen.” The FarOut app is an interesting idea (potentially game-changing) for trail users; it provides up-to-date information on trail sources, such as how fast the water is flowing for a resupply. The NPS and Recreation.gov app are essential for scheduling the next family vacation. For Wasatch locals, the Wasatch Backcountry Skiing app (even if you are hiking) is necessary. The new UAC app is usable now.

A reminder that when money is tight, it doesn’t necessarily mean no spending: eBay, Facebook Marketplace, and KSL are all great resources. One man’s trash is another’s treasure.

Finally, psyllium husk gets an uptake of fiber to stay regular and has some positive benefits on diabetes and cholesterol. Make sure to drink 10 oz of water with it.

The other side of any coin of choices is consequences. The two go hand in hand. Even when the option is to do nothing, there’s still an outcome.

We focus so much on imagining all the scenarios, dwelling on the worst, that we forget to flip the coin for action. Knowing when it is time to stop analyzing and when it’s time to act is a skill. Like any skill, we get better and better with experience.

Imagine someone flipping a coin over and over again. Choice. Consequences. Choice. Choice again. Consequences. More consequences. We have more choices than we realize. But there are always consequences. Consequences, however, shouldn’t change how we approach a coin flip.