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Music rewires your brain. So does hugging, laughing, walking in nature, sunlight. All of it rewires your brain. You've heard the language. Maybe you've used it. I'm not here to argue with the science. The science is fine. I want to pose a different question: when did we start needing neuroscience to justify listening to a song? A few decades ago, nobody needed a peer-reviewed study to go for a walk. You just walked. You came home and felt a little better and that was enough. Now we need the data. We need to know that the walk "rewires neural pathways" or "reduces cortisol" before we'll give ourselves permission to lace up our shoes. Rest needs a productivity angle. Laughing with friends needs to be reframed as a nervous system regulation tool before it counts as time well spent. Somewhere along the way, we took the most basic human experiences, the ones that used to just be called living, and we converted them into performance tools. Sleep became a metric. Food became fuel. A walk in the woods became "forest bathing," based in clinical evidence. And in that conversion, the original thing quietly disappeared. We don't rest because we're tired. We rest because resting makes us more productive. The justification replaced the instinct. We've been wired to optimize for so long that we lost the ability to do something simply because it feels good. Because it's Saturday and the sun is out and your kid is right there and the phone can wait. But somewhere along the way, "I wanted to" stopped being a good enough reason. Now we need a sleep score to confirm we feel rested. We need an app to tell us if we ate well. We need a reason for the nap, and "I was tired" doesn't count unless we can tie it to tomorrow's performance. The cruelest part? The things we're optimizing do make us feel better. They always have. But they worked because we didn't think about them. The moment we turned them into tools, we actually made them less human. We don't need a reason to take a walk. We don't need data to justify a nap. We don't need anyone's permission to sit on a porch and do nothing for twenty minutes. Instead, we need to let ourselves do the things that make us...ourselves. What's something you used to do just because you enjoyed it, before it needed a reason? Hit reply. I read every message. This week: Do one thing without the justification. Don't track it or optimize it or tell yourself it's rewiring anything. Just do it because you want to. Notice how that feels. 📌 Go deeper: Previous Posts | Before You Climb Worksheet​ |
You built everything you were supposed to build. And you're questioning everything. Quietly. It's not burnout. It's not weakness. It's the slow realization that somewhere along the way, you stopped living your life and started managing it. You're not alone in this. I spent 25 years chasing achievement before I saw it clearly. Every Tuesday, I write about what I found. The patterns. The permission to want something different. The occasional uncomfortable truth. No optimization hacks. No hustle. Just honest exploration from someone a few steps ahead on the same path.
Hey Reader, I’ve noticed there’s one person who’s come up in the last few newsletters that I haven’t named yet: My mentor, Mike. Over the past 15 years, we’ve worked together on countless projects, navigated some tricky situations, and had a lot of honest conversations with each other. Reflecting on my years of working with Mike, I wanted to spend this week exploring what it means to be a good mentor. A lot of us might have been the mentee over the course of our careers, but might not have a...
Hey Reader, Happy Tuesday, friends. About ten years ago, a pretty senior partner asked me to lead something for him. I don’t remember exactly what it was but I remember that as he was explaining things to me, there was a growing sense that I wasn’t the right person for this project. On top of that, my mentor had previously pointed out that I was taking on too much work. Leading one more project would only lead to even more of me stretching myself thin. The advice almost everyone gives for...
Hey Reader, Happy Tuesday, friends. Think of someone you've had to deliver difficult news to. Someone whose reaction you couldn't quite predict. Maybe it's a senior stakeholder, or someone on your team. Either way, you know them well enough to know how they receive things can vary depending on the day. Before that conversation, you probably spent more time than usual thinking about how to frame things. Choosing your words carefully. Picking the right time of day. Maybe even running through a...