From Fear to Wonder

I don't think I'll ever forget that jolt of fear when I first opened my eyes under the water. The thing coming toward me was massive, and I felt naked, exposed, powerless... and just pure terror.

It had taken a lot longer to reach the spot than originally planned--we probably sped along in our motorboat for close to 2 hours before we reached the seemingly innocuous patch of open ocean. This was off the coast of Quintana Roo, near Cancun, Mexico. Finally, we had arrived. And the creature had been spotted. It was time to jump in the water to see what we came for: whale sharks.

Whale sharks are harmless to humans. They're also incredibly alluring in the water, how they seem to glide effortlessly and peacefully through buoyant film. But I was terrified when I first got my bearings and saw the gargantuan fish slowly moving toward me. After a couple of seconds my logical brain took over and I calmly swam alongside the creature for about a minute. It was incredible. Despite moving so "slowly," relative to most things in the ocean, we had to swim near full throttle to keep up with it, as its huge tail fin, the length of my body, powerfully swayed back and forth in the water. Eventually, after kicking furiously after it for several seconds, the guide tapped my foot—it was time to go back to the boat.

The shark seemed totally at ease, indifferent to our presence. Whale sharks inhabit the tropical waters around the equator, and feed on plankton, much like baleen whales. Slow humans nearby are of no concern. And they're probably getting used to us; tourism trips centered around seeing them in their natural habitat are becoming increasingly popular. We just happened to realize it was possible to see them from Cancun while on a family trip. It sure puts our human limitations in the ocean into perspective.

It's amazing that whale sharks even exist on Earth. They are larger than any other fish in the ocean by far (the largest recorded whale shark was 18.8 meters). They have striking, stunning markings on their skin. It's as if God created the world and decided it wasn't interesting enough, and so created whale sharks. And we are the lucky recipients. We enjoy opportunities to not only scale mountains and traverse valleys and explore oceans, but we get to swim with these gentle giants in warm water. What an amazing world we share, with so many other beautiful creatures.

This is a Miracle

Einstein supposedly once said, “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” I'm not convinced of the dichotomy, but I do believe there is great power in seeing the miraculousness of our existence. And anyone can do this; rich or poor, old or young, any adherer of any culture or religion, the talentless or the genius; we can all embrace the wild reality of our existence.

I once wrote a simple sign in sharpie on a piece of plain paper, and hung it on my bedroom wall:

This

is

a Miracle

It helps remind me to disengage from the tide of business in everyday life and reframe my thoughts and feelings.

Sometimes late at night I obtain this epiphany about this ride we're on. That I will die some day, that my loved ones will die, and that we won't be together forever. I reflect on how precious that makes our time together. We choose to be in each other's lives, and we try to make the most meaning, the most love, that we can. We optimize our experience together. But one day, it will all end.

Just that is a miracle. That we get to be alive together, in this moment. That we live on a shifting tectonic plate on the surface of a rock with a molten core, spinning around a huge nuclear reactor 90 million miles away. That we get to exist together in this apparently circumstantial set of surroundings, within the great void of the universe. It's truly bonkers when you pause and consider it.

Not only that, but we are not "separate" from it all, as if just plopped down from some outside space We are a part of the universe, as Eckhart Tolle explains: "You are not IN the universe, you ARE the universe, an intrinsic part of it. Ultimately you are not a person, but a focal point where the universe is becoming conscious of itself. What an amazing miracle."

I believe if we harbor this awareness in the forefront of our everyday lives, it will radically transform how we live and how we treat each other. Every single human being on the planet can adopt this perspective and strive to embody it within their community. All of us enjoy the privilege of being alive in this moment together, on this fantastical world, in the incredible year of 2025.

This is the start of global consciousness, the recognition of our shared circumstances. And because this particular existence is unescapable, it has the power to unite us as one planet, one species. We all get to share this miracle together. Should this not inspire change?

A New President

There’s a new president as of yesterday. 

As I started writing this in the days leading up to the inauguration, I kept saying to myself, “we’re going to have a different president soon.” And I think he’ll be a new president; I don’t think he will be the same chief executive as last time. I am apprehensive, but I want to echo the words of Steve Kerr, whom I respect, in that I hope he does well. I hope he helps this country, because we need help. I have my doubts, but I will not sabotage the wellbeing of our country just because I don’t like our leader. 

I’ve never met Trump and probably never will, but I fear his fatal flaw as a leader: his inability to be wrong. Since 2016 when he entered politics, I’ve never seen him admit to being wrong or making a mistake. I’ve never heard him apologize. And that’s a terrible precedent to set for a country as its leader. Because we are all equal. The President of the United States is no more important a human than the child just born, than the immigrant who just entered the country. We are all human beings living on planet Earth in the year 2025.

We have the knowledge and technology to change, and if we only organize, we can change the world. We can ensure everyone on the planet has a means to eat and live. We can ensure everyone in the United States has opportunity to pursue a fulfilling, prosperous, healthy life. This is possible. We just have to believe it’s possible. If Trump aims to truly pursue this for the American people, then I will join him. But I need to see evidence first. Saying “I’m sorry” or “I was wrong” would be a good start. Maybe he can change.

I didn’t end up watching any of the inauguration or surrounding coverage. It’s not because I was so upset about the change in leadership. It was more… I was just over it. And I don’t like being in that place. I wrote a draft for a blog post back in late November asking, “are you still watching the news now that the election is over?” Well I’ve stopped. We get fatigued. Politics matters. Political action changes lives. But the industry makes everything a crisis. When everything is a crisis, you can only pay attention for so long. 

We’re not in a good place as a nation right now. Many are apathetic. Some are excited. We all own the responsibility of marshaling our thoughts and emotions to make this country better. I hope Trump can lead us to a better place. But along the way, I hope we all remember that we’re all American, we’re all human, and we all want the same things. We’re so much better off than our parents’ parents’ generation. Let’s continue building and making the world better. United in that pursuit, we can change the world.

Contributing Back to the System

We like to think we're special or first, that we live in important times. No one wants to think they're ordinary, living in a boring time period.

But maybe this period really is special. Perhaps for the first time in human history, the common person possesses a skillset incongruent with the world they inhabit. Put another way, most people don't have the skillset to produce all the perks they enjoy on a daily basis. I don't know how a cell phone works—do you? AI and machine learning enable a complex economy and supply chain of which I have no idea how to build or operate. We show up to a grocery store, and food is there. We click a button on a website, and supplies arrive at our front doorstep the next day.

What does this mean? Do we have some responsibility to contribute back for this free ride we are getting?

Looking up Broadway Street in Nashville, Tennessee - May 2022

In ancient times, every human needed specific skills to survive. If a man couldn't hunt or protect the tribe from danger, he was no use to the tribe, and thus probably reassigned to something else in order to contribute. He may even have been banished, which was as good as a death sentence. Either way, he likely didn't reproduce much. It was the strong and competent who passed on their genes. This went on for thousands of years—think about it: we are the progeny of the survivors, the ones who solved problems and survived disasters. We are the inheritors of the most talented and capable humans.

Today, I benefit from technology of which I understand very little. I use my cell phone daily, and I could not tell you the basics of how it works. Advanced technology powers our financial and economic systems—I pay for everything with a credit card for instance—and I do not fully understand how it all works. When something ails me, I visit the doctor, who can diagnose and break down whatever health issue I'm facing and prescribe a treatment that can alleviate it. I don't understand the nuances of how any of that works. But I benefit from it. I live a fuller, healthier, more fulfilling and enjoyable life because of the work that so many have done. Do I deserve it?

Was I not simply born in the right place at the right time? I don't mean to imbibe guilt; we should be able to freely enjoy the perks of living in 2025 without shame. But we should recognize how good our lot in life is. We benefit from modern miracles all around us. Our lives are easier today than they would have been 10, 50, 100, 1,000 years ago. What do we give in return?

Charming Little Havana in Miami, built by a strong community - June 2022

We benefit from the system. It's our responsibility to give back to it, in some way, depending on our unique circumstances. It can be directly through our jobs—custodians literally clean up our community areas, after all. Some people work as electrical engineers or teachers or software developers or construction workers and literally build the system. It could be through any activity outside of our work—volunteering, donating money, raising awareness about causes. But it feels fair to give something, in some way.

We are part of a system, part of a global community, and we benefit from being a part of that system. We are the system. It's only fair to add to it, to help try to make it better for everyone else, and for those who come after us. After all, it feels good to be a part of something. It feels good to improve, to win. We can feel these things when we buy into global consciousness. When we work towards uniting humanity. When we inspire change in others. When we truly believe that we can change the world.

[Insert your Name here]'s Fable

It can feel daunting to “find your purpose.” Storytelling can help us see the big picture of our lives.

You can try this: write a short fable about your life. It won't be complete because you're still alive, but that's the point. Keeping it to 5 sentences or 300 words ensures you stick to the most impactful parts of your life. What would you write? How will it end? 

Here’s an example:

A boy was born in California to two loving parents. He was by all accounts ordinary, but love and fate intervened, and his life became extraordinary. Through sports, the boy learned the value of earnest and teamwork. He grew up and became a man. He traveled the world, seeking adventure. When he lived in Africa he met many people from all different backgrounds, learning the vital importance of education. It was here he received his vision to change the world through education. He moved to China, working as a teacher. He lost love, and learned family was the most important thing in his life. So he returned home, and there two extraordinary things happened. First, he met the love of his life, forever understanding that love, time and health are the most important things in life. From his travels, he realized this was true for all humans. Second, he used this abundance of love and his unique perspective to start TAV, to bring these lessons to life, and to prove to the world we can change it, adopting a global, universal perspective. For humanity is one species, living together on one planet in the vast cosmos, and it is much better to live united, pursuing change for the good of all. TAV was only moderately successful; the man never became rich or famous. But it was one of the early seeds for humanity’s planet-wide thought revolution. And, after all, as he had learned from his travels, TAV helped the man pursue the most important things in what would be a successful, fulfilling life: an abundance of love, in good health, for all the time of his long life.

Writing a fable forces you to see your own life from an outside perspective. And it can clarify the big important things: what makes you happy, what gives you satisfaction? How will you use your time in this one life? Perhaps this helps you determine your purpose in life. All that’s left is determining how best to finish the story.

On a Miraculous Ride, Truly Fully Deeply

What does it mean to live a meaningful life?

Recently I randomly thought, “I see my life as some kind of ride, and I don’t know where it’s going, but it’s meaningful.” I don’t know if it’s because I'm having a baby soon and understand it will change my life forever, or if it's because I’ve reached an old enough age in which so many important people are gone from my life, or if it’s simply because it’s a new year and I’ve been reflecting on my life, but I've been thinking a lot about love and meaning and reality.

I view life a certain way, as a miraculous ride, and it's really the impetus for TAV. We are all equal in so many ways. None of us know what’s in store for us. None of us know how long we’ll live, or what will become of our lives, or even what will happen tomorrow. We all rise each morning and go live. This is a universal human condition that cannot be undone. Our prophecies about AI and nuclear power and extraterrestrial colonization cannot change the fact that none of us know the future. Which is another way to say, we are all in the present moment together. Those who are awake at the same time are sharing something real, something powerful, the only thing that exists.

The Bay Bridge on a January morning

You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with, said Jim Rohn. Some people settle for relationships in life. They settle for a good enough partner, or stay friends simply because it's been that way. Not me. I truly and deeply love my tribe. Because we only have the present afforded to us, it doesn’t make any other sense than to love fully, and surround yourself, design your life, with those you love. I hope that’s said at my funeral—that I loved truly fully deeply. I’m far from perfect in most areas of my life, but I feel confident I’ve got love right. Your family is your family; you’re never given another one. And your partner, if you believe in monogamy and buy into our cultural institutions of love and marriage, is the most important decision you make in life. When you love them truly fully deeply, with every fiber in your being, with every cell in your body, as I do, your perspective becomes scaled. Love becomes just as important as any other factor, including your time and your health.

Another consideration is calling, sometimes put as purpose. I believe it’s possible to live one’s life with deep conviction of purpose, with supreme confidence that the actions one takes are the right actions, the most impactful actions possible from that individual. When someone repeatedly fulfills this purpose, day after day, it creates meaning. Time becomes your ultimate commodity, dwarfing money, because time is the only currency with which to pursue purpose. I'm not fully there yet, but I’m well on my way, and TAV is my vehicle.

Onward

At some point, usually fairly early in life, everyone realizes they will die. They understand that this, the present, is not permanent, and that it will end sometime in the future. This reckoning is a demarcation point. From that moment onward, we have an expanded perspective for the rest of our lives. We understand we have to choose, that we get to choose, what to make of our time and our energy. We have the agency to determine what to pursue with our remaining breaths, for one day, we will have our last breath.

How we move forward after this reckoning is what defines us as human beings. We can live with love, we can live with purpose… or we can live in fear. No one can make this choice for us; all eight billion of us have to decide for ourselves. Will we live with earnest? Will we wilt beneath the finality of it all? Will we truly value our time "here?"

Once you recognize it’s solely up to you to create your own meaning, you then have a second choice. Do you live alone, or with love? The secret: none of us really wants to be alone. We all want to share our experiences with someone. We all want to maintain the flame of consciousness with others when faced with the dark void just beyond the light.

Music, motion and companionship can all help deepen our sense of the present. Some exercises that can help kindle our sense of wonder and meaning:

1. Choose a few songs you love. Listen to them in silence, without distraction, and feel them. Let them stir your sense of meaning and conviction.

2. Go on a short walk alone, without your phone, preferably in nature. Walk in silence and listen to the Earth.

3. Sit with your partner and look into their eyes for 3 minutes without speaking. Welcome the feelings that arise and cherish any increased understanding.

I recognize I don’t know much. But I do know this is a wild ride, an unknowable journey that can only be written by us. Can we write it together?

First Contact Question

“If you could have a gigantic billboard anywhere with anything on it—metaphorically speaking, getting a message out to millions or billions—what would it say and why?” Tim Ferriss’ billboard question is well constructed and elicits insightful answers, but I think there’s a step further: “Aliens have landed--as humanity’s chosen liaison, you're tasked with first contact. What do you say? What’s the single most meaningful thing they could say to us?”

The alien question raises the stakes. It’s not just a proclamation of your personal philosophy, but an event with profound consequences. It's a contemplation about our place in the cosmos, our meaning and purpose in this universe. Such an exchange between two civilizations would carry implications for all of humanity, potentially Earth's entire biosphere. The alien question also encourages a broader perspective—what wisdom would an outsider deem essential for us to hear? It's an invitation for commentary on "everything," on all that we know and experience.

The Antarctic is another world

Imagine… you are chosen as humanity’s liaison. They want someone ‘ordinary’ to represent humanity, and yet also someone unique and extraordinary, because, after all, that’s what you are. The government takes you to the nearest airport, where a large private plane awaits. You are left to yourself as the plane transports you down, down the globe to the South Pole, stopping to refuel a few times. After many hours, the pilot's voice over the intercom informs you of the descent to Jack F. Paulus Skiway. Mere minutes later, you’re deplaning, riding in a truck to a huge alien structure—how can that fly, you wonder. Silvery beings, somehow distinct from the surrounding snow, await outside. Your passenger door is opened; you get out, and begin walking toward these strange sentinels. You stop some ten feet from them, and wait. What do they say?

The location of Antarctica also adds some depth to the thought experiment. The South Pole would be an ideal meeting point because it’s uninhabited and generally understood to be unowned. The Antarctic Treaty of 1959 ensures the continent remains a place of peaceful, scientific research. A rendezvous here would send the right signal to the world: instead of aliens landing on the White House lawn, in Tiananmen Square or outside the Kremlin walls, the South Pole serves as a neutral meeting point. And Antarctica is a faraway, foreign place to almost all humans.

(Peaceful) leviathans of the deep abound

The implications of this exchange would be profound. Imagine how it would impact global politics and society as a whole. Regan pondered this in his speech to the United Nations in 1987: “I occasionally think how quickly our differences worldwide would vanish if we were facing an alien threat from outside this world.” What would we learn about ourselves through such an exchange? What would we say to the visitors? If we sought to convey our values, intentions, and questions, what would we say? Would our fundamental understanding of our place and purpose in the universe change? Would our concept of meaning itself change?

I believe aliens would communicate something along the lines of “you are not alone. You understand very little of this complex, incredible thing called reality. Be humble. Live with love. And we will show you the way.” Humanity is destined to make its own mark, regardless of any extraterrestrial species. But it sure would be comforting to know there’s someone else benevolent out there, willing to help, showing us the most important thing is to not feel alone.

The End of (Phone) Addiction

How can I claim this when my metrics are worse? Because the end is in sight, and momentum is on my side. I’m not even prioritizing phone use in my 2025 resolutions. Here’s where I’m at. On October 11th I wrote about fighting addiction to my phone. My daily average screen time was 4 hours and 21 minutes, and I averaged 72 pickups per day.

Based on Apple’s woefully limited dashboards from the past 4 weeks, my numbers actually increased by about 9% since then: 4 hours and 44 minutes of screen time, and 86 pickups per day. But there are some interesting things to note. 

First, I got a new phone on October 15th. Setting up a new device likely made some of this wonky. But I also doubled down on my “Phone Rules.”

• Live phone-free until 12pm every day, with the following exceptions

• I still use my phone as an alarm clock —> I got an alarm clock, so this became irrelevant

• I'll use my phone for meditation as part of my morning routine

• I can use Duolingo in the morning if I have downtime before work

• If I'm exercising, I get to listen to podcasts as my 'reward'

• I can listen to music at any time

Way of Life has useful dashboards that can export to Excel

I mostly adhered to this since I got my new phone, as you can see from this screenshot from my Way of Life app. And it reduced mental clutter. I’ve felt much more clarity over the past few months. It’s enabled me to focus on what matters to me. My phone was truly a tool, instead of a magic distraction device.

Getting my phone out of the bedroom was a big one. With a no light alarm clock adorning my bedside table, I was able to institute, and uphold, a phone ban in my bedroom. I also banned my phone from the bathroom, and guess what, I spend less time in there. Limiting the places I used my phone cut down on my usage.

But my usage increased right, so how can I say I cut down? Because Apple will also break down your most used apps in a given period. Google Maps routinely featured in my top three, and that doesn’t count—I’m driving, not using my phone. Spotify was also one of my most used apps, probably because I don’t turn off the screen while listening to music or a podcast. In this sense, that isn’t true ’screen time’ either. So really I only average about 4 hours of screen time per day.

Sometimes it feels like our phones controls us (London, 2023)

I was worried these 4 hours were hijacked by social media, as I get sucked into Instagram’s feed after posting my daily photo. But that app was never in the top 3 of my used apps any week, and my overall time spent on that platform was minuscule in the grand scheme of things. Whew! (Still, to better attack that vulnerability, I’m going to start batching my posts from my computer at a weekly cadence, to completely bypass the Instagram app.)

My real problem, my most used app, was Brave. I’m still surfing. However, I browse the web in my free time, toward the end of the day, when I’m relaxing at home. I’m not distracted by my phone throughout the majority of my day when I’m trying to accomplish things. I feel very much in control of my mobile device. I feel better, I somehow feel cleaner. And that’s really made all the difference.

These computers can be dangerous, they can distract us from what’s really important in life. Bumping into each other while looking down into our hands is not a good look. We can do better. My top advice? Figure out some basic “rules” for using your phone. Limit using it for a small number of activities, like calls, texts, photos, maps and audio. And strive to be more aware about your habits, improving slowly over time. I’m not quite there yet, but I feel I’m on the road to attention recovery. And as the attention obscurity fades, I look around and see a big, beautiful amazing world.

A Wonderful Life, My Journey in Three Tattoos, and Trevor Allen Vision in 2025

I teared up rewatching It’s a Wonderful Life over the holidays. Is the same message not still true, almost 80 years later? The people in life are what’s most important. We are social creatures, creatures of love. Our tribe is the main ingredient to the recipe for a wonderful life. 

I gave myself some grace and took some time away from TAV in order to fully enjoy the holidays with my tribe. But back in it, I remember it feels good to write and publish something to the world. James Clear’s most recent newsletter serendipitously reinforced this when he ventured, “The quality of my life is significantly higher on days that I publish an article. The creative process and well-being go hand-in-hand."

Wonderful Cape Town, taken atop Lion’s Head in 2011

It feels like I’m contributing. That’s what this is all about. Contributing to the universe. Putting what’s in my mind on the internet, putting my ideas into the world. Because I have something to share. I have traveled a lot, I’ve lived on 3 different continents, and I have a good perspective that’s worthy of sharing with others. That’s what TAV sells—my vision for a better world. Thinking about this, I realized my journey is encapsulated by my three tattoos.

I experienced the vision for TAV in 2011 when I moved to Cape Town, the first time I lived in Africa. Living on my own there, far away from any other members of my tribe, forced me to develop true independence. And because it was a completely foreign place, it opened up my mind and my world in a different way than just traveling. Traveling is wonderful; it provides a peek into other worlds. But to truly experience another culture, to understand it fully, you have to be immersed in it until it becomes mundane. Until you dread repeated chores in your living situation. Until you have a set of friends that no one back home knows except for you. Until your sense of “home” itself changes.

I received this education in South Africa when I was 23 years old. It was when I became a man. I commemorated this awakening with my first tattoo, a simple outline of the African continent with an eye looking East. Because from Cape Town I went to the heart of the East, the capital of China, Beijing. Completely different environment, that would again become my home. Somewhere that would teach me what it meant to be an adult in this crazy world, somewhere that would further elucidate the diversity of our species.

The street outside my Hutong in Beijing, January 2014

China also reinforced the importance of family, and I learned a lesson when I decided to stay for more than three years. I don’t regret this choice, because I think my life in Beijing provided a unique education that was irreplaceable and greatly contributed to who I am today. But I would not make the same choice again if I relived that period of my life. I would have left China a few times to at least visit my tribe. Still, that decision proved the importance of family to me. So I got my second tattoo, the Chinese character for “family” or “home,” read as “jiā.” It marks my understanding of the true meaning of family.

Shortly after, I returned back to California, and I had to find my way again. I spent a third of my twenties outside the United States, had given up any sort of head start into a typical career, and needed to figure out what I was going to do here. Would I live in the US for the rest of my life? Would I continue in teaching or at least education? I split the difference and began a career in Education Technology, which I’m still in today. 

But I also had to recover from the pain of unrequited love. I was lost in many ways, despite returning home. And then, after 2 years, I met the love of my life, and everything started to feel right. I moved out of sales and into product, which suits me better. We traveled around the whole world, visiting all 7 continents, with another extended stay in Africa, this time Tanzania. We have lived and loved and grown. We got married, having 2 beautiful weddings (a Covid blessing), we bought a home, and now we are starting a family. It is at this juncture I’ve obtained my most recent tattoo: an amaryllis flower on my forearm, an artistic token of my love, one that is always visible and can never be taken off. I feel whole and complete at this stage of my life, in that I’m with who I am supposed to be, and pursuing what I am meant to be doing: TAV, and contributing to the world.

My most recent tattoo when it was fresh 2 weeks ago

I think about all this as I contemplate possible resolutions. I’ve written before that I prefer to reflect on my development as a human during my personal “new year,” my birthday. But so much of our lives is determined by the school and calendar year. We’ve survived the darkest part of winter with the passing of the Winter Solstice, celebrated the most important cultural holiday with our tribes, and now have reached the ‘end’ of the year. The dates will soon slip to 2025. How will we be better? For that is the powerful way to frame resolutions—to think not about how much weight we might lose this upcoming year, or how we’ll resolve our personal problems. But how will we make the world better? How will we be better to each other? How will we contribute to the universe? 

I pledge to put more into TAV in 2025 than I ever have before. I aim to raise $5,000 for charity through TAV. I will pour my heart and soul into this venture because it is the best way that I can contribute, the best way to enliven my vision. It is how I can build upon my unique journey, represented through my three tattoos, and how I can convince everyone we couldn’t ask for more from this big beautiful amazing world. 

Sports Betting and Critical Thinking

I watch a lot of sports. Probably about 4-5 hours per week, depending on the season and time of year. Yet my relationship to sports has evolved. Recently, I've pondered two particular aspects of our modern American sports culture: betting and fandom.

Sports betting has exploded in popularity in recent years. It also seems to be the one vice I don't have, so I'm pretty foreign to this world. But I wondered: does sports betting help us think critically? You'll hear bettors rationalize their bets: "X beat Y by 3 points, Y beat Z by 10 points, so X is going to beat Z." I'd wager a lot of gamblers employ more critical thinking in their sports betting than in any other part of their daily lives. Because there's a monetary interest inherent in the activity, they think critically through the factors that influence their bets.

Maybe this changes as gambling devolves into an addiction, I don't know—that's outside the scope of this piece. But there's definitely some legitimate critical thinking going on within this world. I asked my friends J, C and T some basic questions about how they bet (slightly edited for clarity):

Biggest factors you consider when placing a bet?

J: “I am a trend guy… If there isn’t consistency I don’t take it. There are subscriptions now that have stats…and that stuff is wild. I use less of my gut and favoritism and try to focus on the facts”

C: “Where they are playing, who is home who is away, if one team has a guy that’s been playing well or not. I always take their records into consideration but more so care about the spread/‘the line’ of that particular game. And lastly obviously gut.”

T: “Biggest factors are based on the teams I watch regularly so I have a good handle on how they are playing and what stats certain players are trending at. I look at factors such as stats and feeling as well; it’s a balancing act. Really depends on how much I’ve watched that player/team.”

Your top advice? 

J: “Don’t gamble what you can’t afford. I put $100 in January and I am up to $300. I don’t make this an income type of system. I do it for the thrill of making any game that’s on a little bit more exciting. If things go right I make a small amount.”

C: “Never wager outside of your means. Do it for fun. Betting is just an added layer of entertainment not a means of income.”

T: “Biggest advice is to start small; pick sports you enjoy watching.”

This is a small, homogenous sample size. Notice these are all men. Their average age was 33 years old. But it’s clear from their answers that none of my friends are addicted to gambling. All three of them are obviously thinking critically about their bets, even if they all see it as simply entertainment. They all mention some role for instinct or ‘feeling,’ but either consciously try to minimize it or see it as one part of a balanced approach. All three of them stress financial responsibility. 

With the sheer amount of content online and the rise of disinformation and misinformation, critical thinking is increasingly important in today's world. To operate as a functional society, we must be able to consider information, consciously evaluate its truthfulness, relevance, and purpose, and rationally understand why we believe something to be true. Literacy, and digital literacy, are key components to coexisting together in a big, noisy world. Maybe sports betting provides some practice.

Of course, sports betting strays from the simple evaluation of facts to the murky waters of prediction. And I'm not arguing that sports betting is the perfect encapsulation of critical thinking. But can it serve as a microcosm? Maybe it's an (entertaining) vehicle that helps us get there? All I'm saying is, the pitfalls and consequences of sports gambling are well known. But we often throw the baby out with the bathwater. Maybe it can contribute, in some small way, to stronger critical thinking skills among the population.

Adventure Lens

It’s that lead up period to the holidays and the end of the year. In the US, Christmas is entrenched as a cultural holiday, regardless of one's relationship to religion. Most families have traditions they partake in every year. We cut down our Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving, have a friends holiday party, enjoy a fondue night at my parents' house, and then have the typical get togethers on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

It’s kind of wild how much of December is dedicated to Christmas—it's one twelfth of our year. You see Christmas movies on all the streaming services, the radio plays holiday songs, and families everywhere are embracing their Christmas traditions. It dominates everything, especially when there are children in your life. It's almost as if the Christmas cheer keeps everyone warm and hopeful through the darkest month of the year, when there's little sun or warmth. And this is coming from a Californian; I can't imagine what the winters are like in the northern states, year after year.

Christmas tree farm above Black Road earlier this month

And this is my last Christmas without children. My wife and I have been relishing our alone time together. We had a lazy morning this past weekend, and I told her it was one of the last times we'd be able to do that for a long time. It's a weird feeling, anticipating your tribe growing. My wife is the most important person in my life, and yet I know we’ll soon be adding someone just as important. It's also reinforced that notion you hear: “your partner is the only one who truly loves you. Your parents love you because you're their child, you love your family because you were born with them, but you love your partner for who they are and you choose them.” And now we've chosen to start a family. This pregnancy has been a time of transition. It's weird. I know there's significant change to come.

I've journaled about big change before. When a big change comes, there's only so much you can do to prepare for it. Mostly, you simply have to react to the unknown when it happens—your anticipation is limited because, well, it's unknown. I thought about this often growing up when it came to big graduations. When I knew college was looming, I tried to enjoy the end of high school. I was familiar with my friends and teachers and environment, and although I had chosen my college, had visited it, I knew it would be completely different than all I knew up to that point. I had no friends at my new school. It was in a different city. I would be studying completely new subjects, living away from home for the first time. I was eager to play football, but I knew the standards were elevating, in sports and my studies. It was a new level.

Similarly, when I was leaving college, I figured my time in school was over; I didn't have plans to attend graduate school. So it was out into the 'real world' for the first time. I didn't know what industry I would work in or what kind of job I would have (courtesy of a liberal arts education and choosing to major in Sociology, which does have its perks, but this one large drawback). I knew I was walking through another door, and that it would be another world on the other side. I also knew I could never go back.

American desert outside Las Vegas

I felt similar anticipation when I moved abroad, first to South Africa, then to China. Both times, I knew my environment would be completely different. I went to South Africa with a friend, and I had visited there the year before, but I also knew living in Africa would be completely different than visiting for 5 days. We lived in a hostel for the first month, then moved into a house with a bunch of roommates after we finished our teaching program. After getting accustomed to Cape Town, I decided to move to China. This was a big leap—I had never been to Asia before and knew no one on the entire continent. I didn’t speak a lick of Chinese. I definitely looked over a precipice on my flights to Beijing.

Our coming child feels somewhat similar. We are both excited, don't get me wrong, but I also recognize this might be the most significant change I'll ever encounter in my life. Once our family grows, it will no longer be about just us. I will forever think about my child. When I wake up each morning and go to sleep each night, my child will likely be the first and last things I'll think about. I will forever be concerned with their well being for the rest of my life. This isn't a bad or scary thing per se, but it is a significant change. Perhaps I'm showing my naiveté here—I wouldn't know. The point is it's a new adventure awaiting us.

I think that's an important lens to use in life. Even something as 'standard' as starting/raising a family, which billions of others do, can be considered an adventure. Life can seem mundane if you let it. That’s how our brain works. It's up to us to “step into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure” (as Dumbledore puts it).

Well, I cannot wait for the one before me. My life will change forever. I approach the unknown. And I'm eagerly stepping forward, in the long cold nights of December, to embrace the adventure.

Attention to Love

Chris Stapleton is right: love is more precious than gold.

Love is my top priority. It can’t be acquired by anything other than love, by the opening and pouring of your soul into another person. It’s not worth anything to anyone else—it’s not a commodity. It can’t be exchanged for anything else. Love is only valuable to you and the person you share it with. It’s not something you can ‘have.’ Love can only be given and experienced. It’s what I seek, what I prioritize, what I try to attribute the majority of my attention to in this one life I get to live.

Because attention is a finite resource, and our great power is our ability to choose how it is allocated. I wrote about this recently. Attention is determined by the length of our life, our time; and by our biological capacity for processing information: our brain has a finite capacity for processing a certain amount of information in a given time. We can’t process every single thing we experience simultaneously in a given moment. We have to choose what to focus on. We get to choose.

A good portion of our waking hours are dedicated to basic activities like eating, working, driving, etc. So of our 16 hours each day, we only get a slice of ‘free time,’ when we can allocate our attention to whatever we wish. And love is my top priority. With all the time and attentional units I have left to me, I choose to maximize moments of love.

I am so grateful for the love in my life, and I choose to focus on that, not money or recognition or status. Love is above any competition for priorities. My writing and photography for TAV is an expression of my love for humanity and this planet. It is how I can contribute my love to the particle soup that is our local region of this vast universe. Any fun I have is with those I love, any pursuit or hobby is to experience love for life. I choose love.

As Chris says, it can’t be bought and it can’t be sold. It’s up to us how much attention we give love.

Notes from Las Vegas

Nothing gets you to appreciate the mass of humanity in this country like Las Vegas. People come from all around the United States, and the world, to discard their inhibitions and indulge. Most hold drinks in their hands while walking around; there’s certainly a collective social lubrication in this town. Flashing lights and alluring images plaster every surface. Bells and whistles and the sound of money echo throughout casino floors. And the air is rife with smoke—of course you can smoke inside in Vegas, you can do anything you want here.

I once watched a friend shoot a Tommy Gun at an Osama bin Laden target in Vegas, but that was a different lifetime ago. It’s all here: Indoor skydiving and the circus and gambling and raging pool parties; clubs and dance halls and fine dining; waterparks and shows and concerts and marvelous people watching. It’s all possible in the desert.

…

My first time to Fremont Street was definitely an (unexpected) experience. I pictured a somewhat dingy street dotted with saloon-like casinos, rundown but reminiscent of the charm from a bygone era. It was instead an infusion of pure energy, firmly in the present. One long video screen rotated different dazzling images above us. There was so much light it felt like two o’clock in the afternoon, despite it being midnight. Multiple stages peppered this huge outdoor atrium, flanked by casinos on either side. Vegas girls and muscly men and huge gorillas suits beckoned every ten yards. People were smiling, yelling, drinking and taking photos of all the debauchery. Everyone there was simply looking to enjoy a good time. 

…

Creepy clown sign outside Circus Circus

The National Rodeo Finals might have altered our timeline here. Cowboy hats dot the sea of heads. Belt buckles and cowboy boots and plaid shirts are everywhere. And the energy of the crowd is shifted with all these cowboys. There’s an excitement permeating from the big event, but there’s also an honestness. Cowboys and their support teams are here to compete, and to simply enjoy once the competition is over. One cowboy near us pointed at my wife’s belly and asked, “what is that?” “A baby,” I replied. He congratulated us and asked if it was a boy or girl, commenting about his own children. He was shocked to learn how old we were, but kept rewarding us with high fives for each additional bit of information. He was from Utah, with the number 5 rodeo team in the country he told me, and was surprised to hear we were from California. I’m not sure there’s a point to this story, just like there wasn’t to our conversation per se, just that it was friendly and happy.

Maybe it’s being here pregnant and sober that makes this experience different. We’ll see how the week progresses. It seems to afford a unique opportunity as observers, somewhat independent of the fevered effervescence that swirls in the air.

…

There’s also the grimy part of Las Vegas that most people never see. The Strip is a food desert within a desert: you have to work to get out of it. We walked to a grocery store about 2.5 miles off Las Vegas Boulevard, traveling over railroad tracks and underneath freeways, sharing the windswept streets with vagrants and trash. It was sobering to see such poverty juxtaposed against the casino backdrop of obscene wealth. It made you feel there’s something wrong in this world. We were successful in our grocery run, getting a good walk in as well as a little adventure, but it made me think about the bigger picture. We chase status as individuals, but it’s a zero sum game. There has to be some way we can rectify the inequality. 

…

George Strait concert at Allegiant Stadium on Saturday

From our hotel room at the end of The Strip you can see the mountains at the edge of the valley. It’s a jarring reminder that you’re still on Earth, that you’re still not that far from nature and the elements. It’s so easy to forget when there are no clocks or darkness everywhere you go in this town. But the mountains are there, and they are beautiful. I find them calling to me as I sit inside writing.

Because as I’ve gotten older, the fleeting party pleasures pull less strongly. I still enjoy having a good time with the people I love, but I don’t feel the urge to be in the thick of it, surrounded by thousands of other strangers. People come to Las Vegas seeking physical pleasures, sensations and entertainment. There’s nothing wrong with it; the city holds up and functions well, despite the gnarly traffic.

But it’s the solitary connection with nature I seek. I want to commune with my wife in the primal environment of our species, experiencing the elements and the purity of our planet. It’s the simple communion and presence I crave, not the flashy, fleeting pleasures. Is this what getting old means?

…

Whether it’s your first or fiftieth time to Las Vegas, there’s always something to experience. This was a unique place for us to baby moon. It sure is a wild town. I learn something every time.

Attention in Peru

At 9 years old my parents took me to visit my grandparents in Peru. My grandpa was a civil engineer and helped build water systems all over the world. We took advantage of their Lima residence to go see Machu Picchu.

Back in the 90's this was a long journey. We flew from Lima to Cuzco, high up in the mountains. I remember being forced to drink tea to help acclimatize to the altitude. My mom and I hated it—we both piled a ton of sugar into our cups so we could force it down. We then took a train (now very popular) from Cuzco to Aguas Calientes, the town below Machu Picchu, along the Urubamba River. For a 9 year old, this was a wild adventure, unlike anything I had ever experienced. The train was old compared to any American trains, and we lumbered alongside the river, precariously swaying above the gushing rapids below. The river was RAGING. I had never seen a river so large or powerful.

Me next to the 12 Angled Stone at age 9 in 1997

With no available distraction for several hours, I drank in the scenery. Steep mountain cliff on one side, the river on the other, and a dense forest beyond, my imagination went wild. I loved it. I daydreamed there were 'bad guys' in the trees across the river who started shooting arrows at the train. The bad guys somehow got to the front of the train and were climbing toward our compartment on the roof. In my mind's eye I returned fire with my own bow and arrow, both across the river and to the intruders on the roof of the train, ducking behind seats. Swordplay ensued, and it was a raucous duel between the train passengers and the bad guys.

I still remember this fantasy today, almost 30 years later. I was a 9 year old with no entertainment, so I created my own, and it felt completely normal. There were no cell phones back then, and definitely none that would work in the deep mountains and jungles of Peru. I had to entertain myself.

This wasn’t a one-time occurrence. When I was a kid I used to stare out the airplane window and watch the clouds for entire flights. I loved deciding what objects the cloud shapes were, and would feel this strong desire to walk out on the clouds; they looked so soft and warm and welcoming.

Returning to the same spot to recreate the picture at age 30 in 2019

Similarly I have memories of watching the moon when I was very young. I would be in the back seat of the car on drives home. I would look up out the window and stare at the moon, seeing its face. I knew rationally that it wasn't following me, but I enjoyed the sensation as if it were. I would watch it the whole way home, wondering about it, how far away it was, how wonderful it was that we had a moon to look at and enjoy.

And I wonder now... are we missing something by not affording ourselves the opportunity to engage in such fantasies regularly? Do we gain anything when we have only our observations about our environment and the thoughts inside our heads? In today’s world we are constantly stimulated, our attention fractured between different screens. Are we losing presence, and thus our true life experience, because we’re constantly absorbed by the digital world?

I recently learned that “rawdogging flights" has been trending this year. What does 'rawdogging a flight' mean, you may ask? Basically, you sit on a long-haul flight without any distractions—no phone, headphones, no internet. Apparently people, mostly young men, are engaging in this practice as a sort of rite of passage and a way to disconnect from the digital world. It’s supposed to result in a lot of deep introspection. I hear this and wonder if our subconscious somehow recognizes our plight and is crying out for a release.

The beautiful Andes along the Inca Trail in 2019

I used to think of my life in units of time, believing time was the ultimate currency. We only have so many years, so many moments on this earth. Money is only a means to an end to secure more time. Time appeared to rule all. But recently I’ve adjusted my thinking. We have a finite amount of time in life, but within that we also have a finite amount of energy and attention. Attention is a limited resource just like time, and we only have so much available to us in our finite lives. Our fate in life is determined by how we direct our attention, what we choose to focus on, in the limited amount of time afforded to us. Units of attention are the true currency.

If we adopt this paradigm shift, we may reconsider how we spend our time. We might choose to disconnect from our iPhones and stare out the window on a train, enjoying an outlandish fantasy, leaving our devices untouched. In tune with our attention, we might better enjoy our time on this beautiful earth.

The Windy City Experience

And then there’s Chicago. We squeezed as much as we could into a day and a half in the Windy City after driving down from Appleton. Compared to the small-town rural feel of northern Wisconsin, the 3rd largest city in the United States was definitely a big change. Chicago's skyline trails only New York's, and you feel it walking around.

We joked that the lower levels felt like Gotham, where all the dumpsters were clustered, litter blowing in the wind. The back-alleys and areas under the L train made me wonder if Batman was lurking somewhere hidden up above, waiting to spring upon any nefarious persons. The L train is extremely loud and rickety, giving the city an old-time feel, much different than San Francisco. Water is engrained within the city’s consciousness, with the Chicago River winding around the Loop and vast Lake Michigan dominating the entire eastern side. There are also many water towers dotting the surrounding countryside, as if the infrastructure of the city itself remembers the Great Fire and is unwilling to be too far from water.

Loop skyline from atop Sears Tower

The architecture varies on every corner. The birthplace of the skyscraper happened here, and decades of architectural style are visible no matter where you look. You can find Chicago School, Art Deco, Modernism, Beaux-Arts, Gothic, and Postmodernism on display throughout the Loop. Many bridges span the Chicago River, which also creates fun street configurations instead of a simple grid. It's an absolute wonderland for street photography, although I was confined to just my phone.

We saw several major tourist sites for which the city is famous, including the Field Museum, the Magnificent Mile, the Bean and Millennium Park, the Lakefront Trail along Lake Michigan and Ohio Street Beach, the Chicago River and all the Loop's architecture aboard a Wendella cruise, the Sears Tower, the downtown Christkindlmarket, the Chicago Theatre, and 3 awesome Chicago-style restaurants. All in 36 hours! It was nice because there weren't many people around the day before Thanksgiving, so we actually got to enjoy and experience these sights.

The facade of the Chicago Theatre

All in all, my first foray into the Midwest was kind of what I expected. The people are friendly, the weather unforgiving and cold. The food has direct European roots and yet is distinctly American. Sports are passionately followed, the local teams beloved. There was a congruent feel between small-town suburban Wisconsin and the big cities of Milwaukee and Chicago, as if the region is sure of itself and its identify of being located in the Midwest. It's a different, older, simpler vibe than California, and I very much enjoyed experiencing it.

I'm continually surprised by America's diversity, despite living in a heterogeneous place. People live differently in different states, and yet we're all American. We all want the same thing: a fun, prosperous, safe and healthy life for ourselves and our families. Any contrast in our way of life is miniscule and irrelevant compared to that resounding similarity. From California or Chicago, we can all recognize that.

First Time in Wisconsin

The locals tell me it’s gray all day every day this time of year. I’m sure that gets old, but it’s so different than California, I’ve enjoyed experiencing it. It’s flat here; you can see for miles in every direction as you drive down the highway. There’s a sense of community in the signs and billboards. Sure there are the typical chains, CVS and Walgreens and fast food, but there are also many more locally owned establishments dotting the road. People here personify the typical friendly American, full of smiles, quick for conversation, professing a pleasant demeanor.

I’m eager to learn and experience more; this is where my father-in-law’s family is from, meaning I’m now a part of this place too, in some small way.

They love their sports teams here, and there are big sports teams, unlike most other rural states: three professional teams and, of course, the University of Wisconsin. Even though my beloved 49ers just played an atrocious game at Lambeau Field, it was still an awesome experience at one of the premier sports venues in the world. There’s history and tradition, passion and pride, sportsmanship and camaraderie on full display for miles around.

We had the traditional “Friday Fish Fry” and it was delicious; deep fried perch and tenderloin with potatoes puffs. Of course, there are the cheese curds, something my wife introduced me too, thankfully, long ago. And there’s a rich history of brewing beer in the great state of Wisconsin—I’ll have to indulge in that next time.

Every state I’ve visited recently reinforces the diversity of the United States. Arizona, Maine, Tennessee, Hawaii, Nevada, and Florida… they are all very different and yet all very American in their own way. We Americans are lucky; we need to take care of each other.

TAV and AI

This post is inspired by Derek Siver's AI page, which he credits to Damola Morenikeji

I believe AI can contribute to creative work, but not replace it. Even if/when AI surpasses human capabilities, I will still create art through TAV. I pursue writing and photography and podcasting because of how it makes me feel, and because it's my way to contribute to the universe.

As of November 2024:

I do use AI in my creative workflows. Like spell check for writing, my tripod for photography, or my microphone for podcasts, AI is a tool to be leveraged when creating something new, something that is my own. Anyone could use spellcheck or my tripod or microphone to write, photograph or talk—but it wouldn't be my work.

How I use AI for my writing

Every piece of writing on this site is my own. I do not use AI to write copy.

I do use AI to help me research. I will often feed questions to Claude or ChatGPT instead of Google, because the results seem to be better. In this way, LLM's serve as basic search engines and databases.

I use AI to critique my writing, much as I would ask my seventh grade English teacher to evaluate my work. Here’s the prompt I often use:

“You are a blog critic and expert writer. Review this writing so you can help me make it better. Frist summarize the piece into a few bullet points. Then critique the piece, telling me what the piece does well and how it can be improved. Provide counterarguments to the main points."

Sometimes when I've finished a first-round free write and need help formalizing my idea, I'll use some variation of:

"Help me take all this writing to create a blog post. Include an outline of what the blog post should look like based on this initial writing.”

I have occasionally used AI to write meta descriptions for individual blog post pages, and I see this as an LLM helping a database categorize content on the internet.

How I use AI for my photography

Every photograph on this site is my own. I do not use AI to generate or significantly alter images.

I primarily use Adobe Lightroom to edit my photography. This platform has many AI features, and I regularly use “Presets” and “Erase.”

When I use AI to fine-tune an image, I seek to best represent what I see and experience when taking the photo. I might alleviate a whitewashed sky or erase a minor obtrusive feature of a photograph—but I do not intentionally embellish colors or erase prominent features.

I always strive to polish my images so they resemble the scene I witnessed while shooting. Any editing is meant to clarify the reality I experienced, not to embellish or create one.

How I use AI for podcasting

I use AI to create transcripts of recordings. I always review the transcripts and fix any errors or inconsistencies.

This is how I use AI, which I deem a practical tool when used thoughtfully. I will maintain this page as things continue to change, but my art and views on this site will always be my own. Because TAV is my contribution to this world.

Why I take photos

I currently have about 83,000 photos in my iCloud right now. My Lightroom contains over 59,000. I’m working on culling them, as a good chunk are dupes or near dupes.

Intricate Thai architecture in Bangkok, Thailand - February 2020

I don't remember any specific event or instance when my interest in photography began, which is strange given I’ve been shooting earnestly for the past 13 years. But I think it’s safe to assume it all started with travel photography. My mom bought me a basic point and shoot camera when I was young, and I started imitating her photography on trips. I tried to capture the feel of the trip, choosing all sorts of subjects. She started in a similar way, using my grandpa’s camera when she went to Europe for the first time in college. That was back in the 80’s, with actual film. She shot the desert in Egypt, wildlife in Africa, and the local people all over the world. My photographic intuition derives from imitating her.

I still don't have a lot of technical acumen when it comes to photography. Most of my ability is instinctual, following my mom’s lead. We know how to frame shots, how to capture the uniqueness or the moment of what we're seeing with a photo. The style of my photography is still reminiscent of some of the really cool photos she took so long ago.

The most spiritual place I’ve visited - Sertar, China - August 2014

Travel photography gets a bad rap. Today's sentiment is that anyone can do it, that it doesn't require any special talent or thought, that it's simple tourists carelessly snapping photos of their vacation. But it’s the basis of what I try to do with my photography for TAV. It can showcase the world. The Earth is a big, beautiful, amazing planet, with so many diverse places. I try to highlight this beauty and diversity through my photography.

Much of my photography also encompasses wildlife. It is the animals on our planet that make it dynamic: blustery hillsides and deep valleys would appear barren without the animals that inhabit them. The world is adorned with fascinating creatures—my photography tries to capture their essence, in their natural habitat. I also frequently engage in street and architectural photography when visiting cities in new countries. We humans are fascinating, and I try to capture our innate humanity in our diverse communities, as well as the feel of the buildings themselves. In this type of photography I try to prove that we are in fact more similar than we are different.

King penguin closeup in the Southern Ocean - March 2019

Photography is also a vehicle for me to travel the world and spend time in nature. It's not wholly a means to an end in that regard, but travel for me is capturing the world through photos. I try to make people think, or feel, or wonder, when they see my photos. I want the reaction to be more than 'oh that's pretty." Why? Why do I want more, a different reaction? Because my goal is for people to see the world the way I see it. As a beautiful place, an enchanting place, one full of mesmerizing creatures and incredible landscapes and vibrant cities; a planet that is as alive as it is beautiful; a world we should be grateful to call home.

Still photography, done well, lets the world shine.

Information Today is Different

Information is altering our species’ trajectory. And right now it doesn’t look good.

It’s all too easy to blame ‘technology’ as the culprit. “Social media is messing us up…  everyone is staring at their phones all the time… everybody is addicted to their feed…” Our phones, or the internet, or social media, or ‘technology’ seem to be negatively influencing society. But what does this actually mean?

The very information we consume is changing. The way we consume it has changed, the amount of information we consume has grown, and the scale of information proliferation and consumption has never before been like this in human history.

Put another way, our relationship with information is fundamentally different in 2024, then… ever.

Let’s go back to the 1990’s. Let’s assume you’re someone highly interested in current events, local national and international news, politics and the economy, all of it. You would read the newspaper in the morning. Perhaps you would listen to the radio on your way to work. Maybe discuss current events with some of your coworkers in the break room. After dinner you’d watch the evening news for a bit. Maybe even before bed you’d read one of your magazine subscriptions, something “serious” like The Economist or National Geographic. That would be your information diet for the day.

Fast forward to 2024. If I’m not careful, I’ll listen to NPR’s “Up First” while exercising first thing in the morning. I’ll listen to another podcast while getting ready for work. On my commute I might read on my phone (I take public transit, but I’ve seen people do this while driving). Starting up my computer in the office, I open up my email, where the New York Times “The Morning” is waiting for me. I’ll scan that as I clear my inbox. I might listen to yet another podcast during my lunch walk. Upon quitting time, I might listen to more podcasts on my way home. Any chores like vacuuming, laundry or doing the dishes? I’m listening to podcasts. Then there’s the doom scrolling on my phone between dinner and bed. Think about this. How much consumption is happening throughout a day like this? (I’ve written about this before). This is a normal day for a lot of people! This information diet, compared to the average one in the 1990’s, is HUGE.

The quantity, quality, speed, and delivery of information have all drastically changed.

Quantity. Instead of a few prominent newspapers and 4 networks, there are thousands of information sources, . Almost every developed region of the world has a local paper. TV channels exist by the thousand for many countries. There’s YouTube and millions of other websites. Social media and other mobile platforms assimilate all the information. Hell, you can search for anything at any time, with the search bar that exists on all our devices. Just look at Leo’s statistics from my Brave search.

Quality. This explosion in quantity naturally affects the quality of information. Democratization of the news has many benefits, but it also means more people are spreading information, without necessarily verifying it. When it’s not your job, when your livelihood is not dependent on verifying facts and responsible journalism, there are no consequences to sharing interesting stories, irrespective of truth. Everyone is sharing information now, and this has negatively affected information quality.

Speed. In the 1700’s it took months to hear back from another continent. The Pony Express of the mid 1800’s could deliver information across (half) the U.S. in 10 days. Wires crisscrossing the Earth’s crust now enable near instant information sharing. We receive, and expect, information immediately. This impacts how we operate in modern society. It makes it difficult to be present, when there’s inherent anticipation of more information. The higher quantity of lower quality information incessantly bombards us.  

Delivery. In my 1990’s example I listed the different mediums available for information consumption: the radio, the TV, and text (primarily books, newspapers and magazines). We all know how most people consume information today: the internet, mostly through social media. Content is generated and organized solely with your attention in mind, because that’s how platforms and creators make money. We are choosing what information we consume less than ever before, our consumption dominated by the infamous doom scroll as our brain circuitry has adapted to constant information delivery.

This drastic change in quantity, quality, speed, and delivery of information is reshaping how we think, feel, and engage with the world. We know the consequences all too well. Anxiety and polarization feel rampant. Distrust in institutions and leadership is at an all-time high. When thinking about the future, it seems we all see a bleak picture.

But it’s not hopeless. We can advocate for transparency and change, demanding better from our policymakers and BigTech. There are also simple (simple, not easy) solutions each of us can take. We can limit our phone use; instead of a magic boredom relief device, I’m trying to only use it for these 5 things:

1. Calls

2. Texts

3. Photos

4. Maps

5. Audio (songs, books & podcasts, in that order)

We can make phones tools again. We can focus on conscientious consumption: “why am I looking at this? Is it just because I’m bored? Is this reliable information?” This Reddit guide proves a useful start. We can retake ownership of our relationship to, and consumption of, information. We can take back control. We just have to decide it’s important.

Living Beautifully

Living a beautiful life is simple. Here’s how.

Embrace the reality of this particle soup, the universe. We are temporary configurations of atoms and cells.

Contribute. We find purpose through contribution.

Love. We experience meaning by loving.

Make art, in whatever form moves you.

Compete with others and have fun.

Stay off your phone.

Learn all you can about whatever interests you.

(Regularly) consider our collective moment here, on this planet, together.

That’s it. We can live beautifully actualizing these 85 words. Let’s go live.