The Distorted Story You Tell Yourself

If you’ve spent much time with me over the last five years, you’ve probably heard me say, “The most important story is the story you tell yourself.”

At one point, my wife told me I had to give it a break. “That statement doesn’t make sense to everyone.”

She was right.

But it makes sense to me. So much sense, I’m expanding on this topic today.

Every day, all of us are narrating what’s happening to us. We explain why something went wrong. We predict what’s coming next. We decide what it all means. Most of the time, we do this instantaneously.

That idea was further refined for me this week by psychologist Seth Gillihan in his Waking Up series, Changing How We Think. Early in the series, he introduces a term that made me stop and re-listen.

“A cognitive distortion is a mental filter that bends reality in ways that aren’t helpful. ”

— Seth Gillihan

Those small bends matter. They shape how we show up at work, how we talk to the people we care about, and how much unnecessary friction we carry around.

The work is not to eliminate these distortions. The work is to notice them as they appear and interrupt the story before it hardens.

Gillihan outlines sixteen common distortions and encourages you to identify your own. After a few days of paying attention, here are the five I notice most often in myself. Some come from the research. Some are adaptations. A few are entirely made up by me.

1. Fortune Telling
I keep a one-week plan, a quarterly plan, and a one-year plan. Planning is useful. Confusing plans with certainty is not. I don’t know what tomorrow brings. No one does.

2. Catastrophizing
A delayed flight due to mechanical repairs is inconvenient. A wrecked plane is a catastrophe. Mixing the two wastes a lot of energy.

3. The Dog Dream
My dog, Chimmy, thinks I’m perfect. I can do no wrong and am always right. The distortion comes when we start believing our dog. When we twist reality to protect the version of ourselves we prefer to see, instead of noticing where we’re actually falling short.

4. The Book Cover
I make quick judgments based on limited information. Tone, appearance, timing. I fill in the gaps and call it insight. I’m often wrong. 

5. The Dumb Decision
When a decision doesn’t make sense to me, it’s tempting to label it as stupid. In reality, almost every decision makes sense to the person making it, given what they know, value, and have experienced.

These are just five. There are many more. Our lives are full of distorted stories. That’s part of being human.

But the real shift isn’t the list. It’s the moment you catch yourself mid-story, pause, and ask: Is this a cognitive distortion?

Maybe the most important story isn’t just the one we tell ourselves.

Maybe it’s noticing when the story has started to distort.

Begin Again

I’ve been showing up here periodically for years for two reasons.

First, if something I write makes one life 0.01% better, and even if that life is my mom’s (my number one fan), it’s worth the time and energy.

Second, to improve my writing and communication.

The rise of AI and my good friend ChatGPT removed the urgency to practice my writing here, and I showed up less often.

I missed it. I missed the imaginary readers who may stumble across this page and find something useful. I missed organizing my thoughts and sharing my experience.

So I’m back. Or as I like to say, I’m beginning again.

I recently read that our lives are like scooping up a handful of sand relative to all the sand on earth. For me, this puts our humble and brief existence into perspective.

Our lives are short, and our experiences are small. At the same time, each of us is unique, irreplaceable, and has something to share and something to learn.

That’s why I’m here. That’s why I show up.

Begin again.

45 Lessons in 45 years

Another year, another lesson. I started this annual reflection at the age of 31. I add one new lesson each year. 

1. It’s your life. No two people are the same. Embrace the gifts, challenges, and opportunities given to you.

2. Nothing is ever as good or bad as it seems.  The bottom is not that low and the top is not that high.

3. Family matters. At least to me. Good, bad, and ugly, I know my family loves me and this gives me strength. Find strength in your family.

4. Find your passion. Marketing, fly fishing, learning, photography… Passions make life worth living and people with passions make the world go round.

5. Do what you love. This is generally the easiest thing for you to do. What you think about when you go to bed and what you think about when you get up? Do that.

6. Fill wasted time.  Road trip or long commute? Fill your iPhone with audio material you don’t have time to read.

7. Carpe Diem. I’ve heard for years: “you’re young.” Don’t wait for the perfect time, because it will never come.

8. Use your words. The brain is a powerful engine and words drive this motor. What you think and say is what you will become.

9. Stay on your feet. Sitting is bad for you. Run, walk, and stand as much as possible. 

10. Make lists. Simple “to do” lists have become my greatest productivity tool. Email, call, errands, projects, media, etc., all have their own weekly “to do” lists.

11. Buy tickets not toys. I have no shortage of toys, but, it’s the trips I remember most, not the “things” I purchased.

12. Nobody is watching you. I’ve always thought people were watching me. What will they think if…? Don’t make decisions based on what other people will think, make decisions for your best interest.  (The 18-40-60 Rule)

13. Do your best. Win or lose you did your best, what more can you ask for? You gave your best.

14. You grow in the valleys not in the mountains.  Times get tough, that is inevitable. As bad as they may be, these experiences craft our character and build our strength.

15. Continuously learn. Read, listen, watch, write. Never stop learning.

16. Everything is relative. Everything. A 15-inch trout is a great catch, until you land one that is 20.

17. Riches have nothing to do with money.  Today (2011), I'm going on a fishing trip with my dad.  At moments, it will be impossible to be richer than us.

18. Set Goals. I set about 50 goals a year each divided into six priorities in my life:  family, faith, fitness, finances, focus, freelance.

19. Tell someone the goals you set. This will increase accountability and likelihood of achievement.

20. Buy a dog. Health and happiness will follow. 

21. Eat right and sleep well. I used to think both were a waste of time and resources; I now realize they are two of the greatest inputs to energy and performance.

22. Be spiritual. Not offensive, wacky, sign-holding spiritual, spirituality that gives you peace and purpose. Spirituality that allows you to embrace your blessings.

23. Live where you want. If fly fishing, running, riding, recreation, craft beer, and community are important to you, live there. If they’re not, live somewhere else.

24. Love. Marriage is my most prized possession.

25. Don’t be a critic.  It’s easier to be a critic than correct; respect the man in the arena.

26. Find your happy place. Go there when you need to calm the inner beast. 

27. Cheer for something. I always assumed I’d quit caring about sports when I hung up my high school cleats. I now relish the opportunity to cheer for my wife and cheer for the HOGS–Woo Pig Sooie!

28.  Keep a few friends. You don’t need a thousand friends, just a few really good ones.

29. You lose 100% of the races you don’t start. If you try, you’ll know. The “what-ifs” will haunt you, so you might as well try.

30. Measure. If you don’t determine metrics and measure, it’s impossible to gauge progress.

31. Have integrity. Without it, what do you really have?

32. Experiment.  “All of life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.

33. Go down the rabbit hole.  Follow a passion, thought, idea, feeling, etc. as far as it can possibly take you. Once you've arrived at this point. Keep digging.  

34. Focus on Right Now. Vision is great, but I've found my best work gets done when I'm focused on the next task at hand. 

35. Meet in person. No other form of communication (message in a bottle, blogging, phone, skype, text, social, etc.) can compare to the experience of meeting in person.  This holds true for all relationships, professional and personal.

36. The most important story is the story you tell yourself.

37. Altruism wins. 

38. You only control your mind. A bad experience can turn good with a simple change of perception.  

39. Take Proper Breaks.

40. We evolve. It’s the year 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic is changing the world forever. Times are tough and times are crazy, but I love watching humankind respond to adversity. The most malleable species to ever walk on earth. Adapt, it’s what we do best.  

41. Write. Writing clears and clarifies the mind. A blank page and pencil will do amazing things for your health. Just write.

42. No big days. Small, simple, daily habits produce big results.

43. Everything comes with a cost. We’re good at calculating monetary costs and bad at recognizing dues paid in time, opportunity, and relationships.

44. Follow the Golden Rule.

45. All things in moderation. Especially alcohol. The less I drink, the better I feel.

The Last 10 Miles of the Last 100 Miles

I wrote this blog post for the Deschutes River Alliance and decided to share it here as well.

The Last 10 Miles of the Last 100 miles

I was sunburned, wind-chafed, dehydrated, and bleeding the first time I visited the last 10 miles of the Deschutes. A fellow angler and a total stranger had told me to bike up from the mouth on a scorching August day, promising me I might find a willing anadromous rainbow trout. Instead, I found pain.

But for six perfect seconds, I watched a dime-bright steelhead tail-dance its way back to the Pacific before spitting my fly. I limped out of that canyon, a changed man.

Over the weekend, I watched The Last 100 Miles. It’s a must-see. Shortly after the show started, I realized—I’d been on every mile of the lower Deschutes, from the Pelton Round Butte Hydropower Project to its confluence with the Columbia. That’s not a humble brag. That’s a real brag. It’s arguably the most unique coldwater fishery in the Lower 48, and I’ve seen it all.

But as breathtakingly beautiful as the first 90 miles can be, it’s the last 10 that keep me up at night.

The Last 10 Miles

This stretch of canyon in late summer is rough. You could fry an egg on the rock walls while 30 mph winds try to rip your tent from the ground. Grass fires ignite without warning. Rattlesnakes coil in the shade, and the slick volcanic river ledges are just waiting to break your kneecaps.

But through it all, the azure waters (or what we hope one day soon will return to that brilliant shade of blue) of the Deschutes keep flowing—carving its relentless path to the Columbia. Below the water’s surface the first steelhead of the season are making their way upstream to complete a journey we can all admire. And every once in a while, one of those fish will rise and take my waking muddler. In those rare, hard-earned moments in the canyon, there is nowhere on earth I’d rather be.

How It Started

The stranger told me to fish the mouth, but he didn’t tell me how to prepare. On that fateful first trip, I earned five flat tires from goat head thorns, with a few more stuck in the palm of my hand. Ran out of water. Slept in a pile of cheatgrass. Nearly killed my dog and gashed my shin deep enough for stitches.

I also watched, in disbelief, as a fresh steelhead made one violent run before throwing my fly.

I learned the hard way. Then I got smarter.

I bought an old Trek off Craigslist, strapped on a couple of steel baskets, and taught my dog how to ride on the back. I devised a hammock system that works on nearly any pair of streamside alders.

And then I went back. Over and over.

On the lower Deschutes, a fish doesn’t need a bicycle, but an angler might. Chris Corbin’s version of a two-wheeled access road taxi. Some days, I swore steelhead were extinct. On other days, I danced by myself under a moonlit sky after an eight-pound miracle arrived at the end of my line. I’ve paid my dues on this water. I know it well.

I’ve even shared it with a few close fishing friends, all sworn to secrecy. To my surprise, most of them didn’t like it nearly as much I did.

Too windy. Too hot. Too much effort. Too many jet boats. No fish. Some fishing friends didn’t even appreciate my post trip ritual of biscuits and gravy at Dinty’s in Biggs Junction, the best rendition of this decadent breakfast I’ve found in Oregon, and maybe a long way beyond.

Me? I love it, the whole package.

Where It’s Going

Okay, like a true steelhead angler, I may be slightly exaggerating the brutality and my heroic efforts near the mouth. But here’s the truth: all my time spent in the last ten miles has been in the last ten years. I wasn’t there before the PGE mixing tower started screwing things up in the last 100 miles, so my perspective is a recent perspective. But even in that short window of time, I’m seeing change.

In some years, ODFW closes the fishery entirely. Other years, it’s been open, but the numbers were so bleak I closed it for myself. My smallmouth bycatch on swung flies has skyrocketed. The sub-surface volcanic spines that once gave me the perfect swing are almost unrecognizable under a slick of algae.

The water quality problems the DRA is actively monitoring in the first 90 miles hit hardest in the bottom ten. The problems associated with PGE’s mismanagement of water releases are only compounded near the mouth.

In 10 short years, the last 10 miles of the Deschutes are noticeably different than they once were, in a bad way.

How Will it End?

I don’t know what the future holds for the Deschutes. But I know the Deschutes River Alliance is fighting for it, and I plan to fight with them. They’re working hard to fulfill a simple promise to future generations: to protect clean, cold water—because without it, the last 100 miles won’t be worth losing sleep over.

Ten years from now, I want to bike up that old canyon road, find a copse of alders to call home for the night and watch a wild steelhead rise to my fly.

If that future exists, it will be because we all showed up in support for the river we love.

My Gratitude Practice

Somewhere in the middle of my annual reflection for 2024 and goal-setting for the new year, I paused and asked myself a simple question:

What’s your most rewarding habit?

The answer came quickly: 

Gratitudes.

In recent years, this simple practice has produced profound results. Gratitude grounds me, no matter what life brings. It makes good days better and bad days better. 

My current practice revolves around jars, journals, and walks.

Gratitude Jars

On our kitchen counter sit two glass jars. Today, one is empty, and the other has tiny blank note cards. Each Sunday, Linsey and I will take a card from the jar with blanks, write (or sometimes draw) our #1 gratitude of the week, and place it in the other jar.

If you’re sharing a meal with us on a Sunday evening, you’re invited to join the ritual.

At the end of the year, we pour out the jar and read our 104+ gratitudes aloud. It’s a simple tradition that captures life’s little joys, one card at a time.

Here are a few of my 2024 favorites:

• A drawing of my friend Mario running a kite down the beach to entertain his daughter Selma—and himself. The other side reads: SCHULZKE.

• Birch “Olipop” Fett – an inside joke from a day of fishing with my best Montana fishing buddy.

• Retired Linsey is the Best Linsey – a nod to the latest version of my wife, affectionately dubbed Linsey 3.0 (or Nora).

• Arkansas.

• Anything my mom or Linsey cooks. Anything.

• Chimmy’s big head.

We’re now in our third year of this practice, and every time we sift through those crumpled notes, it’s impossible not to smile. Each one is a snapshot of a year well-lived.

Gratitude Journals

Every morning, I open my journal and jot down three gratitudes. Some days, I write full sentences; others, just single words.

It’s a ritual that sets the tone for the day—a moment to pause, appreciate, and begin the day with good fortune.

Gratitude Walks

After dinner, Linsey and I often take a walk. Somewhere along the way, we each share three gratitudes aloud.

These walks are simple yet powerful—a way to connect and recognize what’s good in life.

I’ll recognize up to 43 gratitudes in any given week—sometimes more. And you know what? There’s no limit. Gratitudes help me find joy in the little things, the ordinary moments that make life extraordinary. Maybe that’s the real gift: seeing we already have and realizing it’s enough.

3:Three

Three. That’s the magic number I’ve landed on. This epiphany came to me one day while I was fishing. All great things seem to show up in a stream. Except for steelhead. They never seem to appear.

When I got back home, I cracked open a brand-new journal and started down a path of 3s to structure my life.

I started with my habits.

---

My morning: 3 x 3 journaling with intention.

• 3 things I’m grateful for

• 3 goals for the day

• 3 people, things, or ideas I’m praying for (I’m not religious, just love to pray.)

My diet: 3 x 3 rules for how I eat daily.

• 3 meals (No snacks. Ever.)

• 3 bites of dessert (Never 4. That’s the rule.)

• 3 servings of fruit or vegetables

My physical and mental health: 3 x 3 practices for wellness weekly.

• 3 days of strength training

• 3 days of cardio

• 3 minutes of meditation, once a day

My evening: 3 x 3 reflecting and recharging on an evening walk with my wife.

• 3 gratitudes from the day

• 3 things we did well

• 3 goals for the following day

---

That felt pretty good, and it established some simple but clear habits for the near future. I then pivoted to my life philosophies and listed my top three beliefs on various topics.

My speech: the three filters I use before speaking.

1. Is it true?

2. Is it necessary?

3. Is it kind?

My focus: aligns with what I can control.

1. What I Do.

2. What I Say.

3. What I Think.

My awareness: my top three lessons on mindfulness.

1. Impermanence is the heartbeat of life.

2. My perceptions are often wrong.

3. No mud, no lotus.

My priorities: What matters most to me.

1. Purpose: my life's work

2. People: friends, family, and community

3. Performance: my overall health and well-being

My Do's: three commitments to live by.

1. Rise early

2. Work hard

3. Chase joy

My Don'ts: three things to never do.

1. Don’t complain

2. Don’t criticize

3. Don’t be lazy

My Life: when my ticket's called, I hope I can say:

1. I followed the golden rule.

2. I left the world a better place.

3. I did my best.

---

Of course, these are aspirations, not absolutes—dreams, not guarantees. But I aim for them, day by day.

And honestly, my favorite number is still 2.

44 Lessons in 44 Years

Another year, another lesson. I started this annual reflection at the age of 31. I add one new lesson each year. 

1. It’s your life. No two people are the same. Embrace the gifts, challenges, and opportunities given to you.

2. Nothing is ever as good or bad as it seems.  The bottom is not that low and the top is not that high.

3. Family matters. At least to me. Good, bad, and ugly, I know my family loves me and this gives me strength. Find strength in your family.

4. Find your passion. Marketing, fly fishing, learning, photography… Passions make life worth living and people with passions make the world go round.

5. Do what you love. This is generally the easiest thing for you to do. What you think about when you go to bed and what you think about when you get up? Do that.

6. Fill wasted time.  Road trip or long commute? Fill your iPhone with audio material you don’t have time to read.

7. Carpe Diem. I’ve heard for years: “you’re young.” Don’t wait for the perfect time, because it will never come.

8. Use your words. The brain is a powerful engine and words drive this motor. What you think and say is what you will become.

9. Stay on your feet. Sitting is bad for you. Run, walk, and stand as much as possible. 

10. Make lists. Simple “to do” lists have become my greatest productivity tool. Email, call, errands, projects, media, etc., all have their own weekly “to do” lists.

11. Buy tickets not toys. I have no shortage of toys, but, it’s the trips I remember most, not the “things” I purchased.

12. Nobody is watching you. I’ve always thought people were watching me. What will they think if…? Don’t make decisions based on what other people will think, make decisions for your best interest.  (The 18-40-60 Rule)

13. Do your best. Win or lose you did your best, what more can you ask for? You gave your best.

14. You grow in the valleys not in the mountains.  Times get tough, that is inevitable. As bad as they may be, these experiences craft our character and build our strength.

15. Continuously learn. Read, listen, watch, write. Never stop learning.

16. Everything is relative. Everything. A 15-inch trout is a great catch, until you land one that is 20.

17. Riches have nothing to do with money.  Today (2011), I'm going on a fishing trip with my dad.  At moments, it will be impossible to be richer than us.

18. Set Goals. I set about 50 goals a year each divided into six priorities in my life:  family, faith, fitness, finances, focus, freelance.

19. Tell someone the goals you set. This will increase accountability and likelihood of achievement.

20. Buy a dog. Health and happiness will follow. 

21. Eat right and sleep well. I used to think both were a waste of time and resources; I now realize they are two of the greatest inputs to energy and performance.

22. Be spiritual. Not offensive, wacky, sign-holding spiritual, spirituality that gives you peace and purpose. Spirituality that allows you to embrace your blessings.

23. Live where you want. If fly fishing, running, riding, recreation, craft beer, and community are important to you, live there. If they’re not, live somewhere else.

24. Love. Marriage is my most prized possession.

25. Don’t be a critic.  It’s easier to be a critic than correct; respect the man in the arena.

26. Find your happy place. Go there when you need to calm the inner beast. 

27. Cheer for something. I always assumed I’d quit caring about sports when I hung up my high school cleats. I now relish the opportunity to cheer for my wife and cheer for the HOGS–Woo Pig Sooie!

28.  Keep a few friends. You don’t need a thousand friends, just a few really good ones.

29. You lose 100% of the races you don’t start. If you try, you’ll know. The “what-ifs” will haunt you, so you might as well try.

30. Measure. If you don’t determine metrics and measure, it’s impossible to gauge progress.

31. Have integrity. Without it, what do you really have?

32. Experiment.  “All of life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.

33. Go down the rabbit hole.  Follow a passion, thought, idea, feeling, etc. as far as it can possibly take you. Once you've arrived at this point. Keep digging.  

34. Focus on Right Now. Vision is great, but I've found my best work gets done when I'm focused on the next task at hand. 

35. Meet in person. No other form of communication (message in a bottle, blogging, phone, skype, text, social, etc.) can compare to the experience of meeting in person.  This holds true for all relationships, professional and personal.

36. Nobody cares about your story. They only care about their story.  

37. Altruism wins. 

38. You only control your mind. A bad experience can turn good with a simple change of perception.  

39. Take Proper Breaks.

40. We evolve. It’s the year 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic is changing the world forever. Times are tough and times are crazy, but I love watching humankind respond to adversity. The most malleable species to ever walk on earth. Adapt, it’s what we do best.  

41. Write. Writing clears and clarifies the mind. A blank page and pencil will do amazing things for your health. Just write.

42. No big days. Small, simple, daily habits produce big results.

43. Everything comes with a cost. We’re good at calculating monetary costs and bad at recognizing dues paid in time, opportunity, and relationships.

44. Follow the Golden Rule.

My Mindfulness vs. The Fence

I'm now spending more time in the Waking Up app than on Instagram. It aligns with my 2023 goal to double down on my mindfulness practice. In August, Waking Up added a new feature: "Work In Progress." The show host, Jonah Primo, uses Waking Up to try to live a more mindful, examined life. Recently, he challenged listeners to find and share their WIPMMM or Work In Progress Mini Mindful Moments. Shortly after hearing this I stopped the truck and found mine. Upon returning home, I shared the story with Jonah.

Mindfulness vs. The Fence

It was a chilly and rainy November morning across the Pacific Northwest - perfect weather to catch a searun rainbow trout, also known as a steelhead. I arose at 5 a.m., loaded the truck with my trusty fishing buddy, a golden retriever named Chimmy, and drove 2.5 hours through the foggy darkness to one of the region's most famous steelhead streams. As the sun began to shine, we came to the end of the road. Literally. The only thing between us and our first fly cast was an old barbed wire fence. I lifted my left leg to cross the fence, felt a slight tug, and heard the sound no fly angler wants to hear. I looked down to see a small tear in my breathable Patagonia waders.

A pre "Waking Up" version of myself would have lost it, likely tossing all my fishing gear toward the horizon chased by f-bombs. But not today. This "Work in Progress" breathed deeply. I noticed the small tear fell just above the knee, and most of the riffles on this stream are only knee-deep. I added even more logic on my mindful march to the river. I realized the first breathable wader showed up 30 years ago, and modern man has been catching fish for hundreds of thousands of years, waderless, on much cooler mornings than this one.

As we reached the banks of the freestone stream, I looked over at Chimmy to jokingly tell her we were going to live, even with a torn wader. I noticed she was standing near a very decayed wagon wheel. "Hey Chimmy, I wonder if that's left over from the Oregon trail," I said, "boy, what they would have given for a pair of breathable waders with a small hole."

43 Lessons in 43 Years

Another year, another lesson. I started this annual reflection at the age of 31. I add one new lesson each year. 

1. It’s your life. No two people are the same. Embrace the gifts, challenges, and opportunities given to you.

2. Nothing is ever as good or bad as it seems.  The bottom is not that low and the top is not that high.

3. Family matters. At least to me. Good, bad, and ugly, I know my family loves me and this gives me strength. Find strength in your family.

4. Find your passion. Marketing, fly fishing, learning, photography… Passions make life worth living and people with passions make the world go round.

5. Do what you love. This is generally the easiest thing for you to do. What you think about when you go to bed and what you think about when you get up? Do that.

6. Fill wasted time.  Road trip or long commute? Fill your iPhone with audio material you don’t have time to read.

7. Carpe Diem. I’ve heard for years: “you’re young.” Don’t wait for the perfect time, because it will never come.

8. Use your words. The brain is a powerful engine and words drive this motor. What you think and say is what you will become.

9. Stay on your feet. Sitting is bad for you. Run, walk, and stand as much as possible. 

10. Make lists. Simple “to do” lists have become my greatest productivity tool. Email, call, errands, projects, media, etc., all have their own weekly “to do” lists.

11. Buy tickets not toys. I have no shortage of toys, but, it’s the trips I remember most, not the “things” I purchased.

12. Nobody is watching you. I’ve always thought people were watching me. What will they think if…? Don’t make decisions based on what other people will think, make decisions for your best interest.  (The 18-40-60 Rule)

13. Do your best. Win or lose you did your best, what more can you ask for? You gave your best.

14. You grow in the valleys not in the mountains.  Times get tough, that is inevitable. As bad as they may be, these experiences craft our character and build our strength.

15. Continuously learn. Read, listen, watch, write. Never stop learning.

16. Everything is relative. Everything. A 15-inch trout is a great catch, until you land one that is 20.

17. Riches have nothing to do with money.  Today (2011), I'm going on a fishing trip with my dad.  At moments, it will be impossible to be richer than us.

18. Set Goals. I set about 50 goals a year each divided into six priorities in my life:  family, faith, fitness, finances, focus, freelance.

19. Tell someone the goals you set. This will increase accountability and likelihood of achievement.

20. Buy a dog. Health and happiness will follow. 

21. Eat right and sleep well. I used to think both were a waste of time and resources; I now realize they are two of the greatest inputs to energy and performance.

22. Be spiritual. Not offensive, wacky, sign-holding spiritual, spirituality that gives you peace and purpose. Spirituality that allows you to embrace your blessings.

23. Live where you want. If fly fishing, running, riding, recreation, craft beer, and community are important to you, live there. If they’re not, live somewhere else.

24. Love. Marriage is my most prized possession.

25. Don’t be a critic.  It’s easier to be a critic than correct; respect the man in the arena.

26. Find your happy place. Go there when you need to calm the inner beast. 

27. Cheer for something. I always assumed I’d quit caring about sports when I hung up my high school cleats. I now relish the opportunity to cheer for my wife and cheer for the HOGS–Woo Pig Sooie!

28.  Keep a few friends. You don’t need a thousand friends, just a few really good ones.

29. You lose 100% of the races you don’t start. If you try, you’ll know. The “what-ifs” will haunt you, so you might as well try.

30. Measure. If you don’t determine metrics and measure, it’s impossible to gauge progress.

31. Have integrity. Without it, what do you really have?

32. Experiment.  “All of life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.

33. Go down the rabbit hole.  Follow a passion, thought, idea, feeling, etc. as far as it can possibly take you. Once you've arrived at this point. Keep digging.  

34. Focus on Right Now. Vision is great, but I've found my best work gets done when I'm focused on the next task at hand. 

35. Meet in person. No other form of communication (message in a bottle, blogging, phone, skype, text, social, etc.) can compare to the experience of meeting in person.  This holds true for all relationships, professional and personal.

36. Nobody cares about your story. They only care about their story.  

37. Altruism wins. 

38. You only control your mind. A bad experience can turn good with a simple change of perception.  

39. Take Proper Breaks.

40. We evolve. It’s the year 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic is changing the world forever. Times are tough and times are crazy, but I love watching humankind respond to adversity. The most malleable species to ever walk on earth. Adapt, it’s what we do best.  

41. Write. Writing clears and clarifies the mind. A blank page and pencil will do amazing things for your health. Just write.

42. No big days. Small, simple, daily habits produce big results.

43. Everything comes with a cost. We’re good at calculating monetary costs and bad at recognizing dues paid in time, opportunity, and relationships.

Time

As Linsey, Chimmy, & I continued our sunset walk down the Oregon beach, my brother sat on some driftwood with his wife and dog and watched the last light dip into the Pacific. He stared far beyond the horizon. He shared his thoughts once we all returned to camp: "I'm nearly 45 years old, and I believe reaching 90 is a stretch, so I'm pretty sure I've lived over half of my life." 

Silence fell over the camp as everyone did their math and came to the same conclusion. That assumes we all see a ripe old age. My daily journal details a stark contrast, as I frequently write: "You're gonna die. Maybe today." 

What lies at the center of both extremes is TIME. A subject I'm spending an increasing amount of time thinking about. Sometimes I focus on the time in my life. How much time do I have left? What am I going to do with this time? What am I going to do today? But more and more, I take a big step back and think about time as it relates to humanity. 

Most experts agree modern man has been strolling the earth for at least 200,00 years. I've expressed previous enjoyment in knowing my genes (and your genes too) have battled and beat elimination at least 4,000 times over this period. I stand a little taller whenever I think about my time-tested DNA, the best of the best. We all have our flaws, but we're here, and that's saying something. 

My attention has recently turned to how different the world is today than it has been for most of my DNA-creating years, radically different. Let's compress humanity (200,000 years) into a 24-hour clock. Noon is the halfway mark. It’s also the time homo sapiens took out the homo erectus. We're good at removing competing species; ask the Neanderthals, whose DNA is helping organize these thoughts. But I'm skipping far ahead as a lot has changed since 10:30 pm.

All humans are hunters and gatherers (Midnight to 10:30 pm). 

So 94% of our genetic code, wiring, behaviors, and gene selection occurred hunting and gathering. Find food, reproduce, survive, sleep, live in nature, repeat. This explains why I feel my best on a river trip and quickly assess the threat of approaching animals (dogs, humans, ducks, etc.) unconsciously. It's why Stanford prescribes a walk in the woods for depression, and we flee cities during pandemics. It's hard to reverse the first 22.5 hours of the day in the 1.5 hours. Let's remember this. 

Agriculture gets started (10:30 pm)

At 10:30 pm, the world changed in a big way. We went from the berry bushes to the Golden Corral all-you-can-eat buffet. Obesity has replaced starvation as our biggest killer. Today, we stroll into a grocery store that makes Julius Ceasar look like he didn't have a spread. Our ancestors would laugh as we inform the store clerk our favorite of the 250 cereal varieties isn’t stocked on the shelves. Organic fruit was all we knew for 22.5 hours of the day, but it's hard to find and more expensive in the waning hours of this day.    

The printing press fires up 4.2 minutes before midnight.

The big accelerator to mankind is stacking and spreading ideas. Elon Musk didn't have to learn how to build a car or even a wheel; he just had to figure out how to make it electric. Climb inside, and you'll see a dashboard resembling a big Ipad. If any of these ideas flicker out in a campfire flame, we wouldn't be living our life of grandeur. I'm giving the printing press the lion's share of the credit for our intellectual advances in the last 600 years. We eliminated the start from scratch and have lived exponential lives ever since. Today, I can think of these thoughts, write them down, and anyone in the world (but usually only my mom) can read them and use them as they please. And I'm old school; a Tiktok video spreads ideas faster.

The Duel is alive and well 1.5 minutes before midnight

America's 1st secretary of state, Alexander Hamilton, died in a duel in 1804. And our 7th president Andrew Jackson won a gunfight in 1806, twenty-three years before taking the oval office. The point being for 99.9% of humanity, killing the other person was the best way to solve the problem. As we struggle with skin color, gender, and culture, the gains we've made in treating fellow sapiens are nothing short of remarkable. The end of slavery, women's voting rights, and equal voting rights have all come in the last hour of the day. I'm not saying there isn’t work left to do; I'm saying we appear to be trending in a kinder direction. 

The lightbulb shows up in the last minute.

This weekend I used my cell phone as a flashlight. I also used it to identify four species of birds, accurately calculate the sunrise time, and build relationships with a friend in Japan, all from a remote mountain lake my hunter and gather ancestors would have loved. All this, only 150 years after Edison's 10,000 failed attempts to bring light to the world.

My life captures only seconds of the day. 

If I reach 90, and I don't think I will get to 90, my life will capture 38 seconds of the day of humanity. Here today, gone tomorrow. Just like the 117 billion members of our species that came before me. Time is precious. Time is of the essence, and I just spent a fair amount of time on the subject of time. Why? So I can have a greater appreciation of my time here on earth. 

You're gonna die. Maybe today. 

Enjoy it. 

Dear Linsey Nora

Dear Linsey Nora, 

It's me, your biggest fan. Not the fan who watched you cross all your Ironman finish lines, although I was there for that too. I'm talking about being a fan of your truest self – even the bad parts. Today, you complete your 42nd lap around the sun. I've been your trusty sidekick for 22 laps. You've taught me a lot of lessons over the years. 

Everything changes. We're not the same people that stumbled into each on that fateful day at the University of Montana. We've changed, and the world has changed with us. Yet, two-plus decades later, we're still doing what we can, with what we have, where we are. Together. 

Be Curious. On our first micro-date, I bought you a Dairy Queen Blizzard and opened my Arkansas topo map to lecture you on the best places to fish in the Ozarks. On our first mega-date, I bought you flowers and took you to the Cracker Barrel. You greeted these experiences with the same intrigue that put you on a jet plane by yourself to Japan just two short months ago. I recently asked you about your curiosity, and you said: "it's not only about being curious; it's about being open to all ideas." Amen. 

Explore. Before we met, I'd visited one of the seven continents, North America. As I write this, we've traveled to six of the seven, and to my surprise, you mentioned a boat trip to Antarctica last week. I'm in. We've learned life lessons at each stop along the way. Like wear sunscreen in Chile in January, or don't each too many meat pies in Australia, or tread lightly on the Irish oysters.  

Break it down. On more than one triathlon pro panel, I've heard you offer the simplest of race day advice to nervous athletes: "you can't think about the bike when the gun goes off in an Ironman. Instead, focus on your next swim stroke and the first buoy. Six hours later, when you arrive on the run course, you focus on your next step, the next aid station, not the finish line." That's how you won your Ironman titles, and that's how you live life. Stay in the moment, and focus on the process, not the outcome. The past is gone, and the future hasn't arrived. 

Do hard things for the hard part. I've also overheard athletes ask you what you do during the rough patches of the race. Your response has remained the same: "that's why you sign up for an Ironman. Just know all Ironmans are going to have deep, dark parts. Embrace them, and realize they will eventually pass." The same is true of life. Our greatest joys come on the other side of the hard parts of hard things. 

Get back up. We tied the knot on August 26th, 2006. On the 28th, you were hit by an SUV, leaving you with some new stitches, a severe concussion, and a broken clavicle in four places. One month and a few days later, you crossed the finish line of your first Ironman World Champs. You don't stay down, you never have, and you never will. 

Be loyal. Your first triathlon sponsor, Clif Bar, remained your sponsor for all 17 years of your triathlon career. The same holds true of your second sponsor Saucony. I think the loyalty of these contracts is another triathlon record you hold. The performances helped, but the bonds you formed with these brands are what truly survived the test of time.

Work with Integrity. You can't have a competition without someone cutting corners to win, even Cornhole. Triathlon is no exception. Of all your achievements in the sport, the one I'm the proudest of didn't earn a trophy. You made yourself relevant professionally for a very long career using good old-fashioned hard work and fish oil. Win or lose, you refused to sacrifice your integrity.     

All gas. The first time I got into your Volkswagen Jetta (Circa 2000), I learned something new about you. You don't use the brakes. It was true in the Albertson's parking lot and it's true in life. You'll break your own femur (a few times, actually) before you ever consider tapping the breaks. Using only your gas pedal has created some pain along the way, but it's also made you great at everything you do. 

Passion trumps talent. You were the third-best runner on your high school cross-country team and then ran track and field at UC Davis (not Stanford, not Oregon) before hanging up the cleats and transferring to the University of Montana. You swam your first pool lap at the age of 25 and then became one of the most decorated long-distance triathletes in USA history. You have some natural gifts, the greatest being your passion for doing the work every, single, day.   

Begin Again. Nobody hits the restart button better than you. I've watched you reset bad Ironman races into wins, and as I type these words, I'm witnessing a reset of your career as a culinary creative. Anyone can do it at any time. You begin again. 

Adapt. You've evolved from my backpacking college girlfriend into a record-setting triathlete, back to my wild n' free camping wife. The last six months have been the best six months. No, really, they have. I've always been fascinated by human's ability to adapt as a species, and you're the best of our kind. 

Last year, I condensed all my life goals into one: leave the world a better place than I found it. At the ripe old age of 42, you've already achieved my only goal. And you're just getting started.  

I love you. I'm proud of you. Happy Birthday. 

Your biggest fan, 

Chris Corbin 

42 Lessons in 42 Years

Another year, another lesson. I started this annual reflection at the age of 31. I add one new lesson each year. 

1. It’s your life. No two people are the same. Embrace the gifts, challenges, and opportunities given to you.

2. Nothing is ever as good or bad as it seems.  The bottom is not that low and the top is not that high.

3. Family matters. At least to me. Good, bad, and ugly, I know my family loves me and this gives me strength. Find strength in your family.

4. Find your passion. Marketing, fly fishing, learning, photography… Passions make life worth living and people with passions make the world go round.

5. Do what you love. This is generally the easiest thing for you to do. What you think about when you go to bed and what you think about when you get up? Do that.

6. Fill wasted time.  Road trip or long commute? Fill your iPhone with audio material you don’t have time to read.

7. Carpe Diem. I’ve heard for years: “you’re young.” Don’t wait for the perfect time, because it will never come.

8. Use your words. The brain is a powerful engine and words drive this motor. What you think and say is what you will become.

9. Stay on your feet. Sitting is bad for you. Run, walk, and stand as much as possible. 

10. Make lists. Simple “to do” lists have become my greatest productivity tool. Email, call, errands, projects, media, etc., all have their own weekly “to do” lists.

11. Buy tickets not toys. I have no shortage of toys, but, it’s the trips I remember most, not the “things” I purchased.

12. Nobody is watching you. I’ve always thought people were watching me. What will they think if…? Don’t make decisions based on what other people will think, make decisions for your best interest.  (The 18-40-60 Rule)

13. Do your best. Win or lose you did your best, what more can you ask for? You gave your best.

14. You grow in the valleys not in the mountains.  Times get tough, that is inevitable. As bad as they may be, these experiences craft our character and build our strength.

15. Continuously learn. Read, listen, watch, write. Never stop learning.

16. Everything is relative. Everything. A 15-inch trout is a great catch, until you land one that is 20.

17. Riches have nothing to do with money.  Today (2011), I'm going on a fishing trip with my dad.  At moments, it will be impossible to be richer than us.

18. Set Goals. I set about 50 goals a year each divided into six priorities in my life:  family, faith, fitness, finances, focus, freelance.

19. Tell someone the goals you set. This will increase accountability and likelihood of achievement.

20. Buy a dog. Health and happiness will follow. 

21. Eat right and sleep well. I used to think both were a waste of time and resources; I now realize they are two of the greatest inputs to energy and performance.

22. Be spiritual. Not offensive, wacky, sign-holding spiritual, spirituality that gives you peace and purpose. Spirituality that allows you to embrace your blessings.

23. Live where you want. If fly fishing, running, riding, recreation, craft beer, and community are important to you, live there. If they’re not, live somewhere else.

24. Love. Marriage is my most prized possession.

25. Don’t be a critic.  It’s easier to be a critic than correct; respect the man in the arena.

26. Find your happy place. Go there when you need to calm the inner beast. 

27. Cheer for something. I always assumed I’d quit caring about sports when I hung up my high school cleats. I now relish the opportunity to cheer for my wife and cheer for the HOGS–Woo Pig Sooie!

28.  Keep a few friends. You don’t need a thousand friends, just a few really good ones.

29. You lose 100% of the races you don’t start. If you try, you’ll know. The “what-ifs” will haunt you, so you might as well try.

30. Measure. If you don’t determine metrics and measure, it’s impossible to gauge progress.

31. Have integrity. Without it, what do you really have?

32. Experiment.  “All of life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.

33. Go down the rabbit hole.  Follow a passion, thought, idea, feeling, etc. as far as it can possibly take you. Once you've arrived at this point. Keep digging.  

34. Focus on Right Now. Vision is great, but I've found my best work gets done when I'm focused on the next task at hand. 

35. Meet in person. No other form of communication (message in a bottle, blogging, phone, skype, text, social, etc.) can compare to the experience of meeting in person.  This holds true for all relationships, professional and personal.

36. Nobody cares about your story. They only care about their story.  

37. Altruism wins. 

38. You only control your mind. A bad experience can turn good with a simple change of perception.  

39. Take Proper Breaks.

40. We evolve. It’s the year 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic is changing the world forever. Times are tough and times are crazy, but I love watching humankind respond to adversity. The most malleable species to ever walk on earth. Adapt, it’s what we do best.  

41. Write. Writing clears and clarifies the mind. A blank page and pencil will do amazing things for your health. Just write.

42. No big days. Small, simple, daily habits produce big results.

What I see and what you see

The Waffle House waitress set down my "All-Star Special" on the crowded table for four, my mom and dad seated across the table and Linsey by my side. I took out my fancy digital camera, the one I use for work, and snapped three photos of my waffle. Then I took out my father’s old film camera and snapped one more. 

My mom watched with interest.

"You sure are taking a lot of photos these days," she said, her thick East Tennessee accent drawling her consonants and vowels. I nodded and smiled. My mom was right. I am taking an increasing number of photos. According to my Lightroom catalog, I've snapped at least 34,000 pictures in 2022. Some of those photos are for work, but most are for me. I love simple photographs of life, that which appear mundane. I find joy in the ordinary. 

You see a gate crossing.  

I see two of my favorite people, my wife and my dad, returning from an afternoon fishing smallmouth bass on an Ozark stream. I can smell the honeysuckle growing on the fenceline and feel the warm humid air. A stark difference from the high desert of Oregon I now call home. My dad and I have crossed many gates together exactly like the one pictured here, armed with smiles on our faces and fishing poles in our hands. He doesn't move with the agility he once did, but neither do I. 

You see a fish. 

I see an Ozark Smallmouth Bass, The first fish I ever caught and a fish that changed the course of my life: a fish full of tenacity and fight, lying in the clear waters of the creek it calls home. I've caught thousands of fish just like this one. Each time I return to these waters, the beauty of these fish and the ecosystem they inhabit reminds me of a well-spent youth, and the mighty tug they exert when they strike sparks the same joy it did when I was a boy. When I see this fish resting in the water like this, I feel I grew up right.

You see a dog on a porch. 

I see Shiner lying on the back porch of a country home at the feet of his owner and childhood friend, Jake Gibbs. I hear Jake answer, "Yes, if you have time to stay," when I jokingly asked if he had donuts and coffee for me, even though I only gave him a 30-minute notice of my uninvited arrival. If we’re lucky, we sit and chat on his back porch once a year. We pick right up like we speak every day. This photograph reminds me that childhood friends are different. They’ve been there all along, even when I wasn’t. 

You see someone riding a bike. 

I see my wife doing what she loves and the morning Arkansas sun cutting through the thick air. When I’d lumbered down this road as a boy, I recall a peacock strutting its stuff on a farmhouse lawn and a road runner working hard to stay ahead of my Huffy. What I see the most is simple beauty on a dirt road I once took for granted. The average traveler wouldn’t see much. But this is my dirt road with my memories. 

You see a lady on a porch. 

I see my mom stepping out of the kitchen and onto the porch she and my dad have swept my entire life. I see the flowers she prunes every morning and the window to my old bedroom. Behind this door, I feel the warmth of a home where everyone was welcome as long as they minded their P’s & Q’s. She'll wear Atwood's overalls with style, but don't you dare come to her dinner table with a ball cap on your head. 

My mom is right. I do take a lot of photos. In fact, I took over 1,000 pictures on just this trip alone. And what I've learned is I don't see the photographs. I see the memories. The peacock no longer struts, my friends are growing old, the creeks have changed their course, and soon enough, my dad will cross his last fence, and my mom will cook her last meal. But I’ll still remember these moments captured by my camera. 

Vividly. 

Post-Script: You get a little better at photography when you take 34,000 photos in the first six months of the year. With a simple goal to organize my thoughts and improve my writing, I need to hit the publish button far more often here.

A writer writes.

Yes, this "p.s." is a public pep talk to myself. 

The Human Truth: Lying

I walked through the University of Montana student union en route to my nine o'clock freshwater ecology class. The early morning light crested Mount Sentimental and filled the hall. Through the glare, I saw something I'd never seen before: a large group of students huddled around a row of televisions on a pushcart. I approached and peered over one of their shoulders and watched American Airlines Flight 11 slam into the North Tower. It was the morning of September 11, 2001. 

This story is a lie. Everything happened exactly as I remember it, but it's a lie. It couldn't be true: the media released the footage I vividly remember seeing later in the afternoon that day. I'm not alone. Others remember the morning's footage just as I did, and many baby boomers recall watching the assassination of John F Kennedy on television, even though that footage first aired years later. 

We edit and re-edit our stories all the time. We live lies. We far prefer fiction to fact. I highlight our ability to re-edit our personal history, not as a critique but rather as a gift. It's how we cope with the inevitable tragedies of life, and it's how we survive. We’re the most adaptable species in the history of the world, and myths help us adapt.

Author and Historian, Yuval Harrari, recognized the power of stories, even lies. "Homo sapiens is a post-truth species, whose power depends on creating and believing fictions. Ever since the stone age, self-reinforcing myths have served to unite human collectives. Indeed, Homo sapiens conquered this planet thanks above all to the unique human ability to create and spread fictions. We are the only mammals that can cooperate with numerous strangers because only we can invent fictional stories, spread them around, and convince millions of others to believe in them. As long as everybody believes in the same fictions, we all obey the same laws, and can thereby cooperate effectively.”

A Wired Magazine headline read this week: "TikToK was designed for War: As Russia's invasion of Ukraine plays out online, the platform's design and algorithm prove ideal for the messiness of war—but a nightmare for the truth." This article accurately documents lessons we've already learned for Harrarri: "you cannot organize masses of people effectively without relying on some mythology." And previous research reveals "fake news" travels six times faster than facts on social media. Engagement drives Tiktok's algorithm; the more time spent, shares, & comments, the more ideas spread. The stronger the emotional response to a video, the better it performs, truth be damned. So a video of Russian paratroopers laughing their way into the fields of Ukraine racks up 26 million views, even though it's from 2015. 

Two weeks into the closest thing I've seen to a world war, the numbers are ugly: 15,0000 killed, 2.8 million displaced, & 119 billion in property damages. Just like all the wars that came before it, each side believes they're right. They believe the fictional stories that inspire them to destroy their enemy. They believe the falsehoods of their country. And that is the part of this conflict I know is true. People on both sides are crafting and re-editing lies to justify their actions. Humans driven by lies, it's the only true story since the beginning of time.

Be Rat One

Imagine you could exercise anytime you wanted for as long as you wanted. You were in total control. Now, imagine you had to exercise at the same intensity, time, and place as a friend. Your friend dictates the workout. If they want to swim hard at 5 am in the middle of a snowstorm, then you swim hard at 5 am in the middle of a snowstorm. If they jog at night on poorly lit sidewalks, you stumble along after them.

You'd likely be miserable in the second scenario. At least that was the finding in the "Rat One & Rat Two Study" shared by Dr. Robert Sapolksy on Andrew Huberman's Huberman Lab Podcast, Episode 35. Sapolsky claims the first rat (who selected the time and duration of exercise) got all the benefits. The second rat suffered severe stress, even as it experienced the same energy expenditure and identical movements.

So what does it mean to be Rat One? It means the most important story is the story you tell yourself. Controlling this narrative is as critical as doing the work.  

Later in the same show, Sapolsky references another study on marathon runners, which measured testosterone levels of the finishers. You would think the winner would have the most significant increase in testosterone levels at the finish line, but this wasn't the case. If the winner ran three minutes slower than the previous year and imagined the media publishing a story about his aging body, his testosterone levels were depressed. Very much a Rat Two response. 

Meanwhile, another competitor channeling his inner Rat One finished a glorious 73rd. To the researcher's surprise, this finisher had elevated testosterone levels because he far exceeded his expectations for the race. Both athletes finished with drastically different results and physiological responses, not determined by the performance or outcome, but their perception of the event. The story they were telling themselves.

Similarly, in the Huberman Lab podcast episode 56, Dr. Alia Crum detailed the importance of mindsets. She described how people digest a milkshake faster if they believe it is high in fat (even though it's not actually high in fat). Crum's definition of "mindset" matches my definition of "the story you're telling yourself." Crum also describes how maids receive the physical benefits of exercise once they learn their jobs mirror exercise. Identical work led to weight loss and decreased blood pressure for the maids after the researchers informed them of their professions' exercise benefits. Athletes can have the same physical fitness from one day to the next but experience different results based on their thinking, concluded Crum.

What occurs in our mind is our interpretation of reality. Not reality. The reality is both rats did the same exercise.

Recognize the story you're telling yourself and be Rat One. 

Just Write

I don't usually expand upon my most important lesson of the last year, but I'm going to today because it's so simple and making a big difference in my life. 

Write, I tell you. Just write. 

Approximately 35 years after I first picked up a crayon and made an A, I believe writing daily has become the most important habit I’ve developed in my life. Here I am, approximately halfway through the big show and I'm just now beginning to understand the superpowers of writing. 

I'm not talking about writing publicly, which I also believe is a healthy exercise, or I wouldn't be writing this today. I'm talking about writing privately, or journaling, every single day. This process holds its own magic — and different magic —than the public version. It provides a framework for recognizing, organizing, and expressing what matters most: your thoughts. 

Here’s why and how I write daily:

It's good for you. 
Our words guide our minds. The power of our words hitting the page has science-backed benefits we're only now beginning to understand. (Here's another favorite link for good measure.)  I've experienced many of these benefits in my own life and I believe you will too. I can literally write myself into a better mindset for the day ahead and this alone makes it all worthwhile.

It's simple.
Writing is simple. Think of it as walking for your mind. Nearly anyone can afford it, and anyone can do it anywhere at any time. You don't have to write for very long to see the health benefits. I've experienced relief, joy, and all the other feels in just five minutes of journaling. I've had similar experiences from a five-minute walks. Write short, write long, just write. 

Keep it small. 
I write in Field Notes because they're small in size. The small size means they can go anywhere, anytime. One of my most memorable journaling sessions occurred on the hood of the truck, down a coastal logging road, an hour’s drive from the nearest cell signal and maybe even human being. Their size also makes them feel less important, which removes perfection barriers. I'm not writing the Holy Bible; I'm just trying to understand, organize and express the junk bouncing around between my ears. A small notebook helps with this process.

Keep it short. 
I write in Field Notes because they're only 48 pages long. I've filled the pages of more than 20 of these notebooks in the past year, giving me a sense of progress. Furthermore, turning over a new journal allows me to restore my values on a regular cadence. At the end of one journal, I reflect on the journey I made and highlight what I've learned over this time. At the beginning of the next journal, I rewrite my favorite quotes, what I believe, the values I want to live by, and what I want to achieve over the journal's life. If my journals lasted a year, I'd miss this opportunity for frequent review. 

Write in the morning. 
I try to write first thing every morning. I consider it mobility for the mind. Just as I stretch to wake up my body, my morning pencil and paper awakens my mind. It also starts my day with instant progress; other projects may have stalled, but I know I've started each day with a task completed.  I also believe it sets my mind on the right path for a day of focused and creative work. I finished my journal session this morning as follows: "I start each day writing to get my mind right. I believe if your mind isn't right, it's hard to get anything else right. And the best way to get your mind right is to write."

Do it your way. 
We're all unique and so is our writing. Find what works best for you and do that. For me, my process includes two components: 1) gratitudes and 2) freestyle. The gratitudes are simple: The things I once failed to notice or took for granted. The river flowing nearby, the sun shining on my back, Chimmy sleeping at my feet. The freestyle portion of my writing session has no boundaries. None. Recent examples include something or someone creating anxiety, which pen or pencil improves my writing, my idea of how best to handle Covid, and how short life is. The only rule for the freestyle is there are no rules. Anything goes. Let it fly and enjoy the freedom it provides. 

Make it awesome. 
I love to fish so I tend to exaggerate the stories I tell. My journal is much the same. I don't write "Hot Coffee" as a gratitude. I write: "The smell of freshly ground hot coffee in the morning, steam rising from the cup and reflecting early light of a new day." I'm not trying to be Robert Frost but I just made a boring cup of coffee awesome. I bet I could make McDonald's coffee taste good if I sat down and wrote about it for a while.

Write for relationships.
In recent years, I've made relationships a priority. Like writing, I took them for granted and now realize their vital role in my life. The more I write about my relationships, the richer these experiences become. I've even started a new practice of writing the qualities of each person I'll be spending time with soon. If it's a couple, I'll write about each individually, and then write about them together. Guess what? These are the qualities that shine the brightest when we finally cross paths. 

Write the bad stuff too. 
Thus far, this may sound like a bunch of “woo woo” positive fluff, but I write the bad stuff too. It's not all rainbows and butterflies over here. The deep, dark, demons hit the pages. I've learned journaling is an excellent tool to recognize and cope with emotions. It's much, much better than taking your frustration out on an innocent object or a living being. Just let the pen and paper have it and you'll walk away feeling better. 

So that's how I do it, but this isn't about me. It's about you. 

And I think you need to write.

Let’s GO!

41 Lessons in 41 Years

The notebooks I filled in the last year with good ideas, bad ideas, and everything in between.

Another year, another lesson. I started this annual reflection at the age of 31. I add one new lesson each year. 

1. It’s your life. No two people are the same. Embrace the gifts, challenges, and opportunities given to you.

2. Nothing is ever as good or bad as it seems.  The bottom is not that low and the top is not that high.

3. Family matters. At least to me. Good, bad, and ugly, I know my family loves me and this gives me strength. Find strength in your family.

4. Find your passion. Marketing, fly fishing, learning, photography… Passions make life worth living and people with passions make the world go round.

5. Do what you love. This is generally the easiest thing for you to do. What you think about when you go to bed and what you think about when you get up? Do that.

6. Fill wasted time.  Road trip or long commute? Fill your iPhone with audio material you don’t have time to read.

7. Carpe Diem. I’ve heard for years: “you’re young.” Don’t wait for the perfect time, because it will never come.

8. Use your words. The brain is a powerful engine and words drive this motor. What you think and say is what you will become.

9. Stay on your feet. Sitting is bad for you. Run, walk, and stand as much as possible. 

10. Make lists. Simple “to do” lists have become my greatest productivity tool. Email, call, errands, projects, media, etc., all have their own weekly “to do” lists.

11. Buy tickets not toys. I have no shortage of toys, but, it’s the trips I remember most, not the “things” I purchased.

12. Nobody is watching you. I’ve always thought people were watching me. What will they think if…? Don’t make decisions based on what other people will think, make decisions for your best interest.  (The 18-40-60 Rule)

13. Do your best. Win or lose you did your best, what more can you ask for? You gave your best.

14. You grow in the valleys not in the mountains.  Times get tough, that is inevitable. As bad as they may be, these experiences craft our character and build our strength.

15. Continuously learn. Read, listen, watch, write. Never stop learning.

16. Everything is relative. Everything. A 15-inch trout is a great catch, until you land one that is 20.

17. Riches have nothing to do with money.  Today (2011), I'm going on a fishing trip with my dad.  At moments, it will be impossible to be richer than us.

18. Set Goals. I set about 50 goals a year each divided into six priorities in my life:  family, faith, fitness, finances, focus, freelance.

19. Tell someone the goals you set. This will increase accountability and likelihood of achievement.

20. Buy a dog. Health and happiness will follow. 

21. Eat right and sleep well. I used to think both were a waste of time and resources; I now realize they are two of the greatest inputs to energy and performance.

22. Be spiritual. Not offensive, wacky, sign-holding spiritual, spirituality that gives you peace and purpose. Spirituality that allows you to embrace your blessings.

23. Live where you want. If fly fishing, running, riding, recreation, craft beer, and community are important to you, live there. If they’re not, live somewhere else.

24. Love. Marriage is my most prized possession.

25. Don’t be a critic.  It’s easier to be a critic than correct; respect the man in the arena.

26. Find your happy place. Go there when you need to calm the inner beast. 

27. Cheer for something. I always assumed I’d quit caring about sports when I hung up my high school cleats. I now relish the opportunity to cheer for my wife and cheer for the HOGS–Woo Pig Sooie!

28.  Keep a few friends. You don’t need a thousand friends, just a few really good ones.

29. You lose 100% of the races you don’t start. If you try, you’ll know. The “what-ifs” will haunt you, so you might as well try.

30. Measure. If you don’t determine metrics and measure, it’s impossible to gauge progress.

31. Have integrity. Without it, what do you really have?

32. Experiment.  “All of life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.

33. Go down the rabbit hole.  Follow a passion, thought, idea, feeling, etc. as far as it can possibly take you. Once you've arrived at this point. Keep digging.  

34. Focus on Right Now. Vision is great, but I've found my best work gets done when I'm focused on the next task at hand. 

35. Meet in person. No other form of communication (message in a bottle, blogging, phone, skype, text, social, etc.) can compare to the experience of meeting in person.  This holds true for all relationships, professional and personal.

36. Nobody cares about your story. They only care about their story.  

37. Altruism wins. 

38. You only control your mind. A bad experience can turn good with a simple change of perception.  

39. Take Proper Breaks.

40. We evolve. It’s the year 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic is changing the world forever. Times are tough and times are crazy, but I love watching humankind respond to adversity. The most malleable species to ever walk on earth. Adapt, it’s what we do best.  

41. Write. Writing clears and clarifies the mind. A blank page and pencil will do amazing things for your health. Just write.

The Pug & the Golden

When I was a boy I had a Pug named Meg. Meg was a true lap dog, aptly placed in the “Toy Group” by the American Kennel Club (AKC). Originally bred as companions to Chinese Emperors, Meg’s greatest strengths were best summarized in the last sentence of her AKC bio: “Pugs can be their adorable selves anywhere.” And that’s what Meg did best—nothing at all.  

The only thing I remember Meg being good at was sitting on my lap and watching football. That’s it. Breeders selected her genes for this mission over thousands of generations, destined to be a lap dog, and lap dog she was. 

Meg spent the second half of her life with labored breathing (also genetic) under the stairs in the garage. When I packed up my car for the road trip to Montana for college, Meg didn’t leave her sacred spot under the stairs to say goodbye. That’s how Pugs roll and I loved her for it. 

Ever since Meg, I’ve owned golden retrievers. Today, I own a golden named Chimehuin, who is named after a Patagonian trout stream. Golden retrievers come from a Scottish gundog and fall in the AKC “Sporting Group.” The last line of their AKC bio reads: “For a breed built to retrieve waterfowl for hours on end, swimming and fetching are natural pastimes.” It could also read: the opposite of a pug. Or, will always be at your side or in your car while loading your car for college. 

Similar to Meg, Chimehuin loves all of the things the breeders selected for in her life. A couch to Meg is a river to Chimehuin. She can’t spend too much time camping, fishing, fetching, and enjoying the great outdoors. Meg’s only activity outside of the garage was to use the restroom. 

So, what’s my point?  

Humans are like dogs. Our happiness in life lies in knowing who we are. 

As I’ve highlighted before, I think my DNA has survived over 4,000 battles over death. If you’re reading this, chances are yours has too. Congrats, you also have winning genes! Just like my lap-loving pug or water-loving golden, this genetic code comes pre-programmed. I love to fish, be in nature, exercise, and work creatively in the world of marketing. I dislike big cities, being lazy, and financial accounting. I credit much of the happiness in my life to recognizing who I am and what my genes love most. 

I wouldn’t recommend fighting your DNA, or you’ll be as miserable as a pug on a river trip or golden retriever in a world without tennis balls. Like our four-legged friends,  we too struggle mightily when we try to be someone we’re not.

Find you and be you. 

“You are you. Now isn’t that pleasant. ”

— Dr. Seuss

I got the shot

I got the shot today. And took a picture of it.

I have no clue what went in my arm. 

Maybe it was a placebo, or a liquid algorithm that will control my destiny, or the vaccine for Covid-19? I took the needle with a smile and good faith in humanity that I received the latter. 

The last year has only accelerated my fascination with our species. Of course, my closest friends know I've always loved the subject of human nature, but the pandemic made me think deeply about who "WE" are as humans.

We're a small part of nature. Many of us quickly forget we're just another species on this big, diverse blue planet. Just as Oak Wilt (Ceratocystis fagacearum) is killing thousands of trees, humans are plagued with our own diseases and always will be. Each of us plays a small role in a large ecosystem that never stops changing, evolving, and adapting while outlasting us all. 

We're team players. Our altruistic ways placed us on top of the animal kingdom, and it appears being a team player is the best way to protect ourselves and our loved ones. It's the reason I jumped in line for the shot. A toddler will help an adult open the door they're struggling with, but a chimpanzee never will. 

We quickly trust, align, associate, and assemble with other humans most like ourselves to protect ourselves. In this lies the basis of racism, discrimination, and inequality. We form instantaneous judgments (right or wrong) to protect ourselves and our families. Accepting others that look or behave differently takes a long history of trust to overcome genetic predisposition to see the difference as a threat. I have hope we'll get there and believe we're making progress, but we still have lots of work to do.  

We need purpose. Without it, we die spiritually or physically.  

We're all the same. One hundred and eight billion humans have come before me, and I'm one of the 8 billion strolling the earth today. Much has changed over the last 100 billion iterations of our species, but our human nature remains the same. Travel to any culture in the world, and you'll find a common language, gossip, trade, social classes, self-preservation, and reproduction at the forefront of daily life. 

We know very little. I don't know what went in my arm today, much less how many fish species exist on earth, or how the 10 million cells of bacteria in my gut microbiome got there. I'm making some bold observations today with the irony that we—and definitely me—know very little about the world we live in today. 

We do good most of the time. Generally speaking, humans act with kindness. We say hi to our neighbors instead of punching them in the face. Bad exists and always will, but decency, respect, and kindness win the day. What's even more promising is we're trending in a less violent direction. It wasn't long ago that the easiest way to solve a dispute was to kill the other person. 

We're a social species. The pain felt by COVID-19 far exceeds the death toll. It has attacked our genetic predisposition to assemble with our tribes. The impacts of social isolation remain hard to measure but are real and long-lasting.   

We're seeing rapid evolution in digital media. Digital technology and social media have changed how we communicate forever. The social distancing protocols of the last 365 days have put this change in warp speed. Even more, our hunter-gather brains haven't evolved at the same pace. Historically, news and notifications drove life and death decisions. Survival no longer hangs in this balance, but our urgency does. I plan to write more on this later but will leave it here today: Evolution doesn't care about your happiness (and media is rapidly evolving). 

We're an unhappy species. The world we live in today, even with the virus, is by most measurable statistics (life expectancy, wealth, equality, violence) superior to what it was 200 years ago. Yet, our overall happiness fails to match this trajectory. The patient receiving a life-saving heart transplant (only possible in recent years) immediately complains about the taste of the food in the hospital cafeteria. Life is painful. Birth is painful, death is painful, and everything in between comes with a little pain along the way. We're good at overcoming pain. It's happiness where we struggle most. 

We're the most adaptive species. We're certainly not the fittest, especially in America, but boy, are we ever adaptive. Vaccine development generally takes 10-15 years. The mumps vaccine broke records with its four-year lead time. I write this today, one year and four months after our first U.S. COVID  case, and anyone in American who wants the vaccine is eligible to receive it. The Passenger Pigeon and Javan Tiger weren't nearly as adaptive. 

We live by simple stories. After we're born, we first ask for nourishment and safety. Then we request a story. Stories craft our world and world views. We describe life with a beginning, middle and end. A green piece of paper with George Washington on it is worth $1, a touchdown scores 6 points, and this current mess all started with someone eating a bat. None of these stories are actually true—unless we believe them. 

We fix ourselves. The human body can repair the damage done. We've lost 3.4 million lives to this pandemic, but another 167 million (minimum) have recovered from the disease. I hit a tree with my 20-year-old truck on the first day of 2021. It didn't fix itself.   

We all imagine. Only humans can talk about things they've never experienced. You couldn't convince my Golden Retriever Chimmy to give up her bone today for two bones tomorrow, but 2 billion people praise a god for an afterlife they can only imagine. And I hop in line for a shot of who-knows-what today if I believe it will create a better tomorrow. 

We see good slow, and bad fast. It's likely how we evolved. A lion will take you out in a matter of seconds, but the benefits of exercise can take years to come to fruition. It's likely why you haven't seen the headline that 1.2 million Americans beat cancer in 2020, but the latest mass shooting is always front-page news. This trend also carries over into habits. The joy of good habits (e.g. diet) comes slowly, and the joy of bad habits (e.g. drugs) comes fast.

We assemble in an organized fashion to achieve significant results. You're not going to find birds filing into the local fairgrounds to get vaxxed for the common good of their species. But we'll do it in style. And a big thank you to all the volunteers (also a uniquely human behavior) for the role you played in my shot today. 

We die. Maybe tomorrow, maybe years from now, but we all bite the big one. Steve Jobs and the homeless man without a penny in his pocket are both dead. Death. It is the great equalizer that greets us all.

We disagree. For some stupid reason, I thought we'd all agree on solutions to the first pandemic of my lifetime. Boy, was I wrong! I find this refreshing, actually. No matter what you believe the problem and solutions may be, another equally competent human being thinks the exact opposite. 

I write this from my sore arm today and achy body tomorrow, not with the arrogance of understanding humanity, but with the humility that drives my curiosity and eagerness to learn. 

I write this with the gratitude of being human in 2021. 

Sources: I wish these thoughts were all my own, but I know better. 108 billion minds have come before mine, and I live in a time where information far exceeds our time to learn. I didn't hyperlink to sources because I didn't want to distract the reader, but I'm giving most of the credit for the ideas to Yuval Harrari, E.O. Wilson, Kevin Hart, Joe Rogan, Stephen Pinker, Matt Ridley, Kurt Vonnegut, Andrew Huberman, Nicholas Christakis, Rich Roll, Wright Thompson, Ryan Holiday, Sam Harris, and many more I may be forgetting. 

40 Lessons in 40 Years

Another year, another lesson. I started this annual reflection at the age of 31. I add one new lesson each year. 

1. It’s your life. No two people are the same. Embrace the gifts, challenges, and opportunities given to you.

2. Nothing is ever as good or bad as it seems.  The bottom is not that low and the top is not that high.

3. Family matters. At least to me. Good, bad, and ugly, I know my family loves me and this gives me strength. Find strength in your family.

4. Find your passion. Marketing, fly fishing, learning, photography… Passions make life worth living and people with passions make the world go round.

5. Do what you love. This is generally the easiest thing for you to do. What you think about when you go to bed and what you think about when you get up? Do that.

6. Fill wasted time.  Road trip or long commute? Fill your iPhone with audio material you don’t have time to read.

7. Carpe Diem. I’ve heard for years: “you’re young.” Don’t wait for the perfect time, because it will never come.

8. Use your words. The brain is a powerful engine and words drive this motor. What you think and say is what you will become.

9. Stay on your feet. Sitting is bad for you. Run, walk, and stand as much as possible. 

10. Make lists. Simple “to do” lists have become my greatest productivity tool. Email, call, errands, projects, media, etc., all have their own weekly “to do” lists.

11. Buy tickets not toys. I have no shortage of toys, but, it’s the trips I remember most, not the “things” I purchased.

12. Nobody is watching you. I’ve always thought people were watching me. What will they think if…? Don’t make decisions based on what other people will think, make decisions for your best interest.  (The 18-40-60 Rule)

13. Do your best. Win or lose you did your best, what more can you ask for? You gave your best.

14. You grow in the valleys not in the mountains.  Times get tough, that is inevitable. As bad as they may be, these experiences craft our character and build our strength.

15. Continuously learn. Read, listen, watch, write. Never stop learning.

16. Everything is relative. Everything. A 15-inch trout is a great catch, until you land one that is 20.

17. Riches have nothing to do with money.  Today (2011), I'm going on a fishing trip with my dad.  At moments, it will be impossible to be richer than us.

18. Set Goals. I set about 50 goals a year each divided into six priorities in my life:  family, faith, fitness, finances, focus, freelance.

19. Tell someone the goals you set. This will increase accountability and likelihood of achievement.

20. Buy a dog. Health and happiness will follow. 

21. Eat right and sleep well. I used to think both were a waste of time and resources; I now realize they are two of the greatest inputs to energy and performance.

22. Be spiritual. Not offensive, wacky, sign-holding spiritual, spirituality that gives you peace and purpose. Spirituality that allows you to embrace your blessings.

23. Live where you want. If fly fishing, running, riding, recreation, craft beer, and community are important to you, live there. If they’re not, live somewhere else.

24. Love. Marriage is my most prized possession.

25. Don’t be a critic.  It’s easier to be a critic than correct; respect the man in the arena.

26. Find your happy place. Go there when you need to calm the inner beast. 

27. Cheer for something. I always assumed I’d quit caring about sports when I hung up my high school cleats. I now relish the opportunity to cheer for my wife and cheer for the HOGS–Woo Pig Sooie!

28.  Keep a few friends. You don’t need a thousand friends, just a few really good ones.

29. You lose 100% of the races you don’t start. If you try, you’ll know. The “what-ifs” will haunt you, so you might as well try.

30. Measure. If you don’t determine metrics and measure, it’s impossible to gauge progress.

31. Have integrity. Without it, what do you really have?

32. Experiment.  “All of life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.

33. Go down the rabbit hole.  Follow a passion, thought, idea, feeling, etc. as far as it can possibly take you. Once you've arrived at this point. Keep digging.  

34. Focus on Right Now. Vision is great, but I've found my best work gets done when I'm focused on the next task at hand. 

35. Meet in person. No other form of communication (message in a bottle, blogging, phone, skype, text, social, etc.) can compare to the experience of meeting in person.  This holds true for all relationships, professional and personal.

36. Nobody cares about your story. They only care about their story.  

37. Altruism wins. 

38. You only control your mind. A bad experience can turn good with a simple change of perception.  

39. Take Proper Breaks.

40. We evolve. It’s the year 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic is changing the world forever. Times are tough and times are crazy, but I love watching humankind respond to adversity. The most malleable species to ever walk on earth. Adapt, it’s what we do best.