Week #46, 2024
Week 46 of 2024 has arrived. I have pulled all four of my warm hoodies out of the closet, and one day at a time left them all on the coat tree at work. How lucky am I to have four warm hoodies? Very lucky.
Time to walk over to your 4K Weeks poster and fill in another square. Done?
I am a force of nature. At least that is what I have been told. I have forgotten that in the last few years.
When you are young and hungry, and all of the future is riding on the work you do today, that can be pretty darn motivating. When you are a kid and you get let out for recess, you don't think twice about running around like a maniac for 30 minutes.
These things are the same. As we get older the risks of action seem to grow, while the risks of inaction seem to shrink.
But that is false. The risk of inaction is great. It takes the same amount of energy to be fearful and passive as it takes to be brave and of action. The passive is a vampire.
I am a force of nature. You are a force of nature. Don't rob the fire inside of you of the oxygen it needs to grow. I am a force of nature. You make it true by saying it. Say it again...
I am a force of nature.
P.S. The 33 Day Foundation is live. We have a limited number in this first round.
Sure, you could wait until the first of the year to make a commitment to growth, but that is just so... basic... Here are a few comments from Rocky, one of the beta testers: "The dose of inspiration and audio of the email is magical... ...Something about this challenge that’s interesting is that you learn whether you’re actually into “the focus of your challenge” and can make a solid decision after 33 days how it should show up in your life."
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Remarkable Weeks
Week 46 of 1907, Paul Cornu French cyclist and engineer, flies the first helicopter. It is a twin engine and is the first machine to rise off of the ground using rotator blades instead of wings. He was 1,378.00 (26.42 yrs).
Week 46 of 1988, Benazir Bhutto became Prime Minister of Pakistan, making her the first female leader of a Muslim country. She was 1,332.00 weeks old (25.54 yrs).
Week 46 of 1889, Nellie Bly, the most famous journalist of her time, was known as not just a journalist but an avid adventurer. In 1889 Bly set off in an attempt to beat the fictional journey of Jules Verne's Phileas Fogg in "Round the World in Eighty Days", which she did in a then-record 72 days. She was 1,847.43 weeks (35.43 4 yrs).
This Week's Quote
"One secret of success in life is for a man to be ready for his opportunity when it comes." -Benjamin Disraeli
How many opportunities have been missed because one didn't possess the skills to take advantage? It seems sad until you realize it happens all day every day. Most of the opportunities that you miss aren't missed because you aren't skilled. They are missed because they are opportunities you didn't want anyway.
The world is FULL of opportunities. They walk by you everyday. Who cares.
The important thing is this... if there is something you want to get out of life, you better get ready.
You better be doing the work now so that when someone hands you the mic, you are ready to SING!
One of the biggest personal disappointments is to miss an opportunity that you wanted because you didn't do the work to be ready ahead of time.
Start doing the work. NOW!
What I am Consuming This Week
"The Paradox of Tolerance"
This is an interesting philosophical read on Wikipedia. As we move through the chaos of the 4th turning, and the political invective that surrounds us, I think it is good to examine what your rules for tolerance are. What will you tolerate? Everything? Even intolerance?
Jon Batiste, American Symphony
I mentioned the Jon Batiste/Tim Ferriss podcast to my sister and she told me about his movie. I am planning on watching it this weekend. Her recommendations are always on point. (A long time ago she told me about this new musical... called Hamilton.)
Day Trading Attention, Gary Vaynerchuk
I was talking to one of my basketball buddies about social media. He is a bit of a social media savant, and he recommended that I read this book. It is... interesting. I am not sure how I feel about it... I mean, I suppose it is the way of the world... we will see...
What I am Thinking About This Week
Who I am.
I don't have many regrets.
Like many of the good things in my life, I am not sure how much of that is a credit to some inherent qualities in me, or the people who raised me, or the whim of some benevolent creator.
Most of my mistakes have turned out to be blessings in disguise, much like the ancient parable "Maybe..."
I do have at least one major regret.
When I was in 6th grade, as a result of a familial economic downturn, I was enrolled in a public school that was much more "real life" than the small private school I had attended from preschool to 5th grade.
The first time I ever rode a bus, it picked me up at 6:20 am, 4 city blocks from my house. Living in the inner suburbs, I was one of the first to get on. I still remember my dad walking me to the bus stop that first day.
School started at 7:40, and so for nearly an hour, the bus would snake through the city, picking up kids in every grade, 6th to 12th, and every socioeconomic status from middle class to below poverty level. On one of the first few days, about half way through the ride, I remember saying to myself... "Do people actually live in these houses?" I had never seen this kind of poverty.
I rode that bus for three years. The first two were miserable. I have always been tall, I was still dressed in my private school clothes, and there is just something about a big fancy target that a bully loves. A group of five or six 8th graders tormented me, every day, for two years.
Nothing actionable. No major physical violence. They weren't criminals, just young boys, with the standard amount of fear and aggression, and a whole lot of group shift.
And so, every afternoon, it was name calling, butts of jokes, a bit of menace, but no punches thrown. Looking back, I am glad for it. The fact that you can't hurt me with words is largely because I have known how it feels to be hurt, and I figured out how to work through those emotions and realize that none of that had anything to do with me.
I don't regret any of that.
My 8th grade year, things were different. For one reason or another, none of those kids were on the bus. And once it became clear that my tormentors were gone, I was determined not to let anyone fill the void.
And so, I struck first. Maybe they were a bit different, or nerdy, or shy, or just out group enough. For whatever reason, with the help of some sycophantic yes men, I tormented the two new kids for much of the school year.
I don't ever remember why, or how, or what. I just remember how they would try to crawl inside their bus seat, trying to ignore the taunts and insults.
My family moved to a suburban district over the summer of my 8th grade year. Everything changed, life moved on, new friends, etc. New friends who showed me so much kindness.
Every time I think about the bus that 8th grade year, I regret every single second of it. I haven't seen or heard of either of those kids in 34 years, but if I saw them on the street I would beg for their forgiveness.
Who I am is how I treat the least among us, and the same goes for you.
I failed that test miserably once. I will never again be the bully, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to atone for those 34 year-old sins, by standing up for people instead of tearing them down, or "othering them". My integrity demands it, and yours should to.
Spencer
P.P.S. If you read this whole email, here is your solid fitness advice reward. (Thanks Andrew for introducing me to Mark Lewis.Dad Joke O' The Week
What do you call a fake dad?
A Faux pas!
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