johnmaconline

From the late 90s on, Steve Jobs famously wore the same thing every day — black turtleneck, 501 blue jeans, and New Balance 991 sneakers. 

One of his reasons (supposedly) was to reduce decision fatigue. Specifically, to not waste any brain cycles on picking out clothes. Others, such as Zuck and Obama have adopted similar approaches. 

Decision fatigue is a real thing (from Perplexity):

The decline in the quality of decisions made after a prolonged period of decision-making. It occurs because decision-making is a cognitively taxing process, and as mental energy depletes, individuals become less capable of making sound choices. This phenomenon can lead to poor decisions, procrastination, or reliance on default options.

Causes:

1. Volume of Decisions: Making numerous decisions in a short period drains mental energy.
2. Complexity: Decisions that involve weighing trade-offs or significant consequences are particularly exhausting.
3. Stress and Emotional Load: High-stakes or emotionally charged decisions exacerbate fatigue.
4. Modern Life Overload: The abundance of choices in modern life, from trivial (e.g., what to wear) to significant (e.g., career moves), stretches cognitive resources.

I’m sure you know decision fatigue. 

“What do you want for dinner?”
“I don’t know. What do you want?”

Etc.

We all create routines in order to avoid wasting brain cycles. It’s a great life hack and, quite frankly, necessary in the overloaded culture we live in. Plus, routines keep us disciplined and (when healthy) keep us moving in the right direction. 

However, every once in a while, we gotta ignore the machine that we’ve created and tap into our humanity. We gotta purposely waste some brain cycles. 

Order something new. Wear something different. Listen to a different voice. Question a core belief. 

Maybe those wasted brain cycles become the most important.

I’ve noticed something about me. Maybe it happens to you also.

When I get overwhelmed, buried, and feel like there is just too much to do, I start to try to multitask. And then nothing gets done. 

“I’ll start on this.”
“But wait, I need to pay attention to that.”
“Oh, can’t let this other thing slide.”

I take a step in one direction. Then, in a different direction. Go left. Go right. Go back. 

That’s Resistance.

The antidote is to go back to my list, make sure it’s prioritized, and then start at the top. Finish one. Move on to the next. Linear.

Stop walking around randomly and keep walking in straight lines. 

Ah, I missed it. Coulda had it for less than the expected amount.

The Joachim-Ma Strad did fetch a pile, $11.3M, but it was expected to go for between $12M and $18M. 

Do I regret this missed opportunity? Should I regret it?

Regret feels heavy because hindsight is 20/20. We think, “If only I’d done XYZ…” But also, my social media feed is filled with the “no regrets!” bros. 

It’s a confusing world out there when it comes to regret. 

Missed opportunities aren’t just failures to recognize or act. They’re also gifts wrapped in regret. Regret is a teacher. Regret teaches us what matters and what doesn’t. Also, how to move forward without the burden of thinking we should’ve known better. Maybe we could have — but should have?

The past isn’t that simple, and the future isn’t that knowable. 

Maybe the real missed opportunity is believing we could’ve done it differently.

If you’re gonna start juggling chainsaws, you better already be proficient at juggling.

You don’t jump right into the art of juggling by starting with chainsaws. There’s a progression of skill development you can’t shortcut.

Now, for giggles, let’s give those chainsaws names like “budget” and “leadership” and “people.”

If you’re gonna start juggling chainsaws, you better already be proficient at juggling.

The big company. The government job. Tenure. A pension. Credentials.

Own your own business. Emergency savings. Sidearm. Pickup truck. Shed full of tools.

Relationship. Door locks. Church. Police patrols. Fire hydrant. Health insurance.

Survival bunker. Leadership. Internet access. Emergency room close by. Physical fitness.

Pets. Neighborhood. Good car. Health insurance. Multiple streams of income.

Some things here make me feel secure. Some make you feel secure.

Security is a feeling.

You control your feelings.

Clear some time in your schedule. You can’t be rushed. It doesn’t work if you’re rushed.

Grab your whetstone(s) and gather your good (or crummy) knives. Take a seat with a straight-backed chair at a table. Maybe a little music. Silence is also good. Is it nice out? Maybe set up outside.

Lay the knives out before you and then position the stones procedurally. Course to fine. Procedure matters. System matters. 

Start with the knife in the worst shape. The one with the visible notches and dings on the cutting edge. This one will take the longest because it requires rough sharpening with a course stone to remove lots of metal. Patience required. You’re creating a new edge. You’ll want that edge somewhere between 15 and 22 degrees, depending on the style and metal. Your sushi knife? Closer to 15. Your do-everything kitchen knife? Closer to 22. 

Once the notches are gone, start the fine sharpening process with your medium grit stone. This is where you establish the secondary bevel and make the edge even and sharp. Use your eyes. Does it look even? Scrape various points of the edge orthogonally (never parallel) on your fingernail. Is it sharp at all points down the blade?

When you’re satisfied, get the fine grit stone for the honing/polishing process. This stone evens out the imperceptible irregularities on the edge itself. You’re also removing the near-microscopic bits from the edge that impede the blade as it slices through the material. 

Now you have something. When you started, your knives weren’t sharp. Now they are.

You applied skill and effort. Physical and mental. You applied procedure and thought about the system. Maybe modifed it along the way as you discovered what worked best. You focused on the task at hand. How much time passed? You probably don’t know. You shouldn’t care.

There’s something very human about pouring yourself into a task like this. It’s partially about being able to use sharp knives. It’s partially about making them sharp yourself. And it’s partially about the physical and mental activity of getting lost in the work. 

You should sharpen your knives.

P.S. By the way, you can apply the above to servicing your lawn equipment, organizing your craft room or garage, cleaning your cookware, planting your garden, or giving your computer an enema.

For some, Resistance invites them to change paths constantly. 

“It’s better over there.” 
“The path you’re on doesn’t go anywhere.”
“This path is not for you.”
“Look how shiny and smooth that other path is.”

So they do, and they don’t get anywhere.

For others, Resistance invites them to stay the course no matter what.

“Just a little longer.”
“You’re not committed enough.”
“You’ve already spent so much.”
“You know this path. The other path is scary/dumb/unknown.”

So they do, and they don’t get anywhere.

Resistance is a bugger. Resistance is specific, yet not personal. 

See it. Acknowledge it. You can overcome it.

P.S. For me, Resistance shows up in the form of the latter. 

Spouses want to feel heard.
Children want to feel heard.
Employees want to feel heard.
Customers want to feel heard.
Committee members want to feel heard.
Congregation members want to feel heard.
Constituents want to feel heard.
You want to feel heard.

If you can make people feel heard, you’ll win.

go birds 

/ geow * berds /

greeting

1. Colloquial greeting meaning anything such as, “hello” “thank you” “you’re the best” “have a good day” 

interjection

1. Response to someone with whom you do not wish to speak.
2. Defiance of authority.

exclamation

1. “Run, Saquon, Run!”
2. “Hit him!”
3. “Fly, Eagles, Fly!”