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.  

How to go 186 days without BEER

Breweries in the U.S. rose from 1,500 at the turn of the century to 8,000 at the start of 2020. I’m taking partial credit for this growth. I call this two-decade span “my drinking years.” Over these twenty years, if I crossed paths with one of those 8,000 breweries, I’d go in and drink beer. 

I drank a bunch of beer. I love drinking beer. 

I drank a little every day. I drank even more on the weekends. I drank on holidays, I drank on airplanes, and I drank anytime I felt like drinking—usually a little, but sometimes a lot.

I can’t say alcohol ruined my life, but I can’t say it improved it either. I lost my grandfather to alcohol abuse and understood its inheritance, yet I still found myself with a beer in hand most nights. I’ve written about changing my alcohol habits: here, and here, and here.

Near the end of 2019, my alcohol awareness became an action item, thanks to Peter Attia. I refer to Dr. Attia as my digital doctor, not because I receive treatments but because I listen to his podcast and implement many of his recommendations (e.g., Fasting). 

The following statement from Attia soon became doctor’s orders:

“I’m not convinced there is a single benefit to ethanol in the human body.”

— Dr. Peter Attia

Dr. Attia further explains a glass of beer contains 15 grams of ethanol. Ethanol is a toxin, and at elevated levels, a toxin becomes a poison. My perception of alcohol changed right then and there.

No wonder hangovers hurt. 

When it came time to set goals for 2020, I knew what I had to do. 

“In 2020, I will only drink 12 days. One day a month-ish. Welcome to the party! ”

— I wrote in my journal.

Let’s call it 12 days for ‘20. 

It’s not uncommon for me to make a beer-free pledge (see hyperlinks above), but I’ve never made one with the same conviction as when my pencil hit the paper that day.  

I’m proud to announce that I made it 186 days without a sip of alcohol and have only imbibed three times since.  I’ve consumed alcohol three days since this time and believe I’ll reach my 12 day for ‘20 goal.

How did I do it? 

1. Change your mind. If I believed beer was good for me, I’d still be drinking daily. A single sentence from Dr. Attia took care of this. When I shifted my mindset from “relaxing elixir” to “poison,” change became much easier. 

2. Visualize the results. Because the joys of alcohol are immediate, but the benefits of abstinence come slow, I spent time visualizing a healthier, happier, future me. I also spent time visualizing all the bad alcohol brings and that also acted as a good deterrent.  

3. Start strong. We kicked off 2020 with a sober vacation to Mexico. I—surprise, surprise—used a series of tricks you can read about here, to ensure I started the first six days of the year without any alcohol. 

4. Make it difficult. You won’t find a beer in our house or garage. If I want a beer at home, it will take some effort and a series of steps I’m not willing to take to secure said beer. Similarly, it’s hard to drink while camping if you don’t pack any beer with you. 

5. Reward yourself. Small internal rewards help drive action. I track my alcohol-free wins in an annual plan. Documenting saved money and checking boxes of achievement. I even purchased a new fly rod with the money saved from not buying beer. 

6. Remove triggers. Triggers help make habits. After I _____, I ____. They also help break habits. I removed all the alcohol triggers I could find. 

7. Drink a non-alcoholic beer. Not as a substitute for beer, but because it’s terrible and showcases how bad beer tastes and feels without a buzz. 

8. Tell someone. We’ve all heard this one works and it’s true. I shared my 12 days inn ‘20 alcohol goal with friends, family, and anyone else who didn’t believe it was humanly possible for this beer-lover to reign in his favorite sauce. Hitting publish on this post will only add fuel to the fire.

9. All things in moderation. Why 12 days? Why not just get rid of alcohol altogether? Because I still love beer. But on my terms. I want to call the shots. I may even cut it a day short to show beer who’s the big boss now.

If you read between the lines – or maybe it’s in the lines – you’ll see my chest puffed out and my head held high. I’m darn proud of myself. And while I don’t have metrics for quantifiable improvements in happiness, productivity, sleep and overall health, I can tell you this: 

I feel good.  

The two metrics I have tracked are weight and percent body fat. Since kicking beer to the curb, I’ve lost 13lbs and dropped 10% body fat. 

No wonder I feel good. 

—————

Another piece of writing inspired by my friends Mario Dot To and Nurture Theory. We believe the thinking discovered through public writing improves our lives. We call ourselves the Western Writers League, and we'll get some custom merch made eventually. 

My Morning Routine

Mornings don’t come easy to me. I inherited late to bed, late to rise genes from my father. My poor relationship with the morning quickly changed once I discovered you catch more fish at daybreak. My joy for watching the sunrise over a trout stream has spilled over into my work life, and I now celebrate each new day with a morning routine.

I constantly tinker (even this morning) with my routine, but here is the current process, with links to the references that inspired these behaviors.  

1. Sleep 7-9 hours. OK, maybe this is a pre-morning routine, but it makes my mornings much, much better. For 30 years, I bragged that "you can sleep when you're dead." I was wrong. I now believe sleep is essential to optimal health. 
   Reference: Why We Sleep

2. Make Coffee. I own nine different contraptions for making a cup of coffee. Most recently, I’m going with the F70 style pour over using Backporch French Roast hand ground daily. It's delicious, but it takes time. While the coffee is brewing, I wake up my body. 

   Reference: One of the many articles I've read recently on the health benefits of coffee. 

3. Move. Mobility is my weakest link. I start the day with a runner lunge + twist, deep squats with knee rotations, and stick mobility. Occasionally, I’ll substitute a short walk for mobility.

   Reference: I put together this sequence myself but Jay DiCharry is my go-to resource for all things dynamic movement.

4. Get Sunlight. I grab my coffee, journals, phone, and dog and head out to our east-facing front porch, where I spend 10-15 minutes getting morning light on my eyes.

   Reference: I pretty much love all things Andrew Huberman. His research on morning and evening light made an immediate impact on my life. 

5. Meditate. At the time of this post, I'm bragging about my 557-day mediation streak using the Headspace app. It's the best habit I've added in the last 20 years, maybe ever. I don't meditate for long (7 minutes on average) but I meditate often (usually 3+ times a day).

   Reference: Headspace is my go-to meditation app, but I'm also a fan of Sam Harris, Ten Percent Happier, and these two books: 1. Awareness and 2. Untethered Soul.  

6. Journal. I keep a modified version of the gratitude journal with three primary components: 1. Unfiltered list of gratitudes; 2. What I want to achieve this day;3. An affirmation statement. The affirmation statement must be active. For example, I'd never write, "I am wise," but I frequently write, "I am learning."

   Reference: The Daily Stoic for journaling and inspiration. Field Notes for the tools of the trade.  

7. Work. I try to keep my previous six steps under 45 minutes and hit the office (or river) full speed. Anything longer takes time from my most productive hours. 

   Reference: When, Daniel Pink for an understanding of energy allocation and timing. 

Last week, I rolled out of my hammock on the banks of the Deschutes River. I made coffee. I moved. I enjoyed the rising sun. I meditated. I journaled. And I caught fish. 

I’ve learned a lot of lessons from fishing over the years, and the importance of early mornings is one of them.

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Another piece of writing inspired by my friends Mario Dot To and Nurture Theory. We believe the thinking discovered through public writing improves our lives. We call ourselves the Western Writers League, and we'll get something awesome made eventually. 

No.

“Say no to everything frequently and gracefully, except what is vital. ”

— Greg Mckeown 

NO. 

I use NO with conviction when I speak to my dog. Otherwise, it doesn’t roll off the tongue with ease. I'm blaming my personality type as an UPHOLDER, but that still fails to address my shortcomings with NO. So, I’m taking a deeper dive into this powerful two-letter sentence.

Greg Mckeown deserves credit for bringing the importance of NO to the forefront of my thoughts. Some of his ideas I repackaged here. Some of the ideas I stole from others. And some of the ideas I can't recall their origin. 

1. Hell Yeah! or NO. Mckeown mentions this trick, but I was riding the Derek Sivers train long before Essentialism hit the shelves. The filter is as simple as it sounds. A "maybe" is a NO. And anything other than "Hell Yeah!" gets a solid NO. 

2. Have Rules. Thanks to the rule of law governing most cultures, humans respond well to rules. So, I make rules and cite rules instead of NO. For example, I only take A.M. conference calls & meetings on Thursdays. This rule makes my mornings productive and my calendar declines easy.

3. Replace No with Yes. You can break bad habits by replacing them with good habits. The same holds for NO. Let's say a colleague asks me to work on an insurance brand account. I’d say NO followed by a shortlist of brands we could work on together. The benefits of replacing NO with yes are two-fold: 1)it quickly reinforces where your passions lie, and 2)it provides options. Giving options can catalyze change in the questioner's mind. 

4. Change the meaning of NO. I've historically believed yes = good & no = bad. Just like my dog. I’m reworking these equations. If someone asks to punch you in the face. NO would be a really good answer. I’ve over simplified my example, but not by much when you begin to take a closer look and your NOs.

5. Ask yourself at every moment, "Is this necessary?" – Marcus Aurelius A valid question two millennia ago, and equally applicable today. If the answer to this five-syllable question is NO, then you respond with NO. 

6. Say No. One, simple, NO. Free from clarifying statements, commentary, excuses, and regrets. The best way to say NO is to say NO.   

It’s said writing clarifies your thoughts. And these are my thoughts on NO.  

Use it often, use it wisely.

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Another piece of writing inspired by my friends Mario Dot To and Nurture Theory. We believe the thinking discovered through public writing improves our lives. We call ourselves the Western Writers League, and we'll get some mega swag made eventually. 

Happy Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day, and I want to celebrate my mom. 

Rather than writing from scratch, I decided to dust off some old writing and re-write, re-enjoy, re-reflect the gifts my mom's given me. These gifts have zero monetary value and endless life value. 

They're the gifts mom's give best. 

Good morning, Good morning, it's time to rise and shine. My mom didn't say this. She sang it. The tune echoed through the house as our daily alarm clock for school. I didn't enjoy it then but embrace it now. Getting up early is good for you and this little ditty starts the day right.

Never follow a recipe. If I could eat at anywhere in the world, I'd stroll into my mom's kitchen. She’s a master and like other greats refuses to follow a recipe. Culinary innovation follows. For example, have you ever heard of pickled chicken or wilted lettuce? Exactly, my two favorites.

You grow in the valleys, not on the mountains. I think she took this quote from her grandmother. Regardless of its origin, it is true. Painfully true.

Pursue your dreams. I’ve always followed my bliss and my deserves the credit. When I decided I wanted to go west and attend the University of Montana – a big decision for boy from a small town in the Ozarks – she supported me 100% She always has and this gives me confidence to pursue my dreams.

Talk to people. My mom will talk to anyone. As a result, she makes people smile, departs airplanes with newfound friends, and receives as many Christmas cards as the North Pole. I've mentioned this before, but I recently learned this behavior increases overall happiness as well. So be sure and be friendly.  

Laugh. My mom loves to laugh. She likes to laugh at other people; she loves to laugh at my dad, and, most importantly, she laughs the hardest at herself.

Always finish what you start. I learned this the hard way at age 7. I crashed into the pool wall during a swim meet and decided to immediately exit the pool. I met my mother standing above me on the pool wall. She made sure I finished.

Have rules. In my mom's presence, you don't: wear a cap inside, come to the breakfast table without a shirt on, lie, steal, cheat, quit, or pass gas. She has rules, unwavering, awesome rules.

Be blessed. When you ask my mom about her life, she'll say: "I'm so blessed." What makes my mom blessed is she believes she's blessed. What you think, you become.

Thanks for everything, Mom. 

I Love You. 

Side Note: My last post focused on my brother. This post focuses on my mother. In both instances, I found writing publicly about the lessons I've learned from them increased my love and gratitude for the role they've played in my life. And this alone made the exercise worthwhile. 

Double Side Note: My mom fell in the kitchen on Friday and broke her left hip & wrist. A heartfelt thank you to all the health care professionals that put her back together again in under 12 hours. I spoke to her yesterday, one day after hip replacement surgery. "I really buggered myself up this time," she stated. "Today, I took four steps and used the beside pot," she bragged. That's the attitude she's known for and the attitude that shines the brightest when times are tough.

Thanks Mom. 

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Another piece of writing inspired by my friends Mario Dot To and Nurture Theory. We believe the thinking discovered through public writing improves our lives. We call ourselves the Western Writers League, and we'll get some rad custom gear made eventually. 

Big Brother's Wisdom

I have one older brother, Kyle Corbin. Sandwiched between my wife and his wife in the image above.

He doesn’t fish because he knows the hook inflicts pain. He won’t watch the Tiger King because he feels for the tigers. You get the idea. He’s a kind-hearted man. 

Luckily for the rest of the world, he recognized his compassion for others as a strength and became a physical therapist. He’s won awards for excellence in care at nearly every stop he’s made. In the world of medicine, these honors frequently come with administrative promotions, more money, and bigger stacks of papers. He always refuses these job offers because he knows it will take him away from what he loves most: frontline care.  

His most recent honor for “Outstanding Care” came with one caveat: a camera interview (not his style). He tried his best to bury the video of his interview, but my mom hunted it down and shared it with me. When I finished watching it, I felt great pride for my brother and thought the wisdom he shared applied to far more than health care. 

1. Do what you love. The start of all success stories and the first words out of his mouth. Kyle found a love for caregiving and learned that his real gifts lie in ACUTE CARE – short-term treatment of a severe injury. Success followed with it.   

2. Be a people person. As Kyle enters a hospital room, he strives to connect with the person, not the patient. He asks them where they’re from or what they do for fun in hopes of finding a common interest. He credits our mother’s gift of gab for this skill set, but he’s establishing the foundation of any relationship: likeability and trustworthiness. Furthermore, these small conversations will increase happiness for all parties.

3. Put yourself in their shoes. Kyle is healthy & athletic. But that’s not his mindset when providing care. Instead, he imagines how he’d feel with their pain. I’m guessing his shift in mindset elevates not only his compassion but also his gratitude for his own well being. 

4. Treat everyone like you treat your grandma. When I heard my brother say this, I smiled deeply, so much so I’m not going to elaborate here. Let’s all try to treat others like we treat our grandmas.

5. Communicate Clearly. Near the end of his interview, Kyle expressed that issues in the hospital arise from poor communication. I believe the same could be said for all problems big & small.

As I write this, over 67,000 people have passed from Covid-19 in the United States. And Kyle Corbin suits up in the necessary safety layers to treat those infected with the disease. He was one of two therapists selected by his hospital to treat Covid-19 patients at their local hospital.  

I timidly asked him how it was going. 

“It’s pretty fun actually. These patients need our help, and it’s exciting to see our team come together.”

Yeah…. that’s my big brother!

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Another piece of writing inspired by my friends Mario Dot To and Nurture Theory. We believe the thinking discovered through public writing improves our lives. We call ourselves the Western Writers League and we’ll get trinkets made eventually.

why am I writing?

I don’t think many people read chriscorbin.me. Truthfully, I don’t know because I refuse to look at the analytics. I don’t want to see if I have an audience. That’s not why I am writing. 

I am writing because it is good for my mind. 

I believe your mind is your greatest gift. Your mind can change a rainy day from doom and gloom to refreshing showers. The rain didn’t change. Your mind did.  

The best way to improve your mind is to train your mind. Just as resistance training strengthens your body, writing nourishes your mind. And similar to lifting heavy objects almost everyone can write, anytime, anywhere.

Let’s use this simple post on “Why am I writing?” as an example for training my mind. What yielded a mere 385 words of writing, produced far, far more in mental health.

The timeline went something like this: 

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I wrote the idea down last Saturday. 

I let it rest on my unconscious mind for seven days. 

I woke up and decided to write. 

I scribbled down a few paragraphs. 

I read Kurt Vonnegut’s Greatest Writing Advice. 

I read Kurt Vonnegut’s The Paris Interview. 

I purchased Kurt Vonnegut’s The Last Interview. 

I read a Ryan Holiday post on the benefits of walking.

I read another Ryan Holiday post on the magic of walking. 

I reread Steven Pinker’s 13 Tips for Better Writing. 

I skimmed my notes from 100 ways to Improve Your Writing 

I skimmed my notes from Simple & Direct. 

I skimmed my Evernotes with writing tags. 

I watched a Tim Ferriss video about how writing sharpens your thinking.  

I wrote a draft. 

I used dictionary.com 4 times. 

I used the thesaurus.com 22 times. I am not joking. 

I went for a walk. 

I rewrote my draft.

I let it sit.

I slept. 

I woke. 

I stretched.

I journaled. 

I meditated.

I edited the draft. 

I re-edited the draft.  

I posted to chriscorbin.me 

I exercised my mind. 

I made something.

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The steps taken to get to the sentence you are reading was good for my mind.

And that’s exactly why I write.

Now… it’s your turn.

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Another piece of writing inspired by my friends Mario Dot To and Nurture Theory. We believe the thinking that can only be found through public writing improves our lives. We call ourselves the Western Writers League and we’ll get hats made eventually.

The weather, the waves and the watcher.

I nearly died in the ocean, twice. 

Once caught helplessly in a Caribbean undertow. The second instance being tossed against the lava coastline of Hawaii. I was saying my final goodbyes, and I somehow survived.

I'll forever be thankful and I’ll forever respect the ocean. 

Over the last year, my relationship with the ocean has changed, shifting from one of fear to one of gratitude, with a side of curiosity. My love for steelhead (Searun Rainbow Trout) keeps bringing me back to Oregon’s coastal tributaries and their confluences with the Pacific Ocean. I even took surfing lessons to conquer my fears and see waves in a new way. Most importantly, a daily meditation habit has shifted my mindset about the source of 97% of the earth's water.  

My perspective of the ocean made another – definitive – change last week on my drive to the Oregon Coast.  As with most time spent in my truck, I listened to a book: The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer. 

It's a recommended read (listen) for all, but especially those exploring mindfulness, which I am. It's the first book I've ever read on Blinkist, listened to on Audible, and inked into my Field Notes journal, all within a 48 hour period. 

In his chapter "Who Are You?" Singer defines YOU as:

“I am the one who sees. From back in here somewhere, I look out, and I am aware of events, thoughts, and emotions that pass before me.”

Hearing this simple idea, I immediately crafted a mental metaphor for who I am and what I see: the ocean.

It goes something like this.

The metaphor begins as I stroll down to the beach, find a large driftwood stump, sit down, and watch the waves roll in. 

The Weather
The weather represents the worldly events that are out of my control, both big and small. Big events could include climate change, the economy, peace talks, pandemics, and the natural wonders of the world. Small events could be the loss of loved ones, an inherited disease, a new opportunity at work, or a random invite on a trip of a lifetime. The weather always changes, and the weather never stops. I have no say in the forecast. I can get upset about rain, but it's still going to rain. There is good weather and there is bad weather just as the world brings good events (new opportunities) and bad events (mortality).  

The Waves 
What the weather impacts most are the waves. The waves represent my feelings and emotions about the weather. Bad weather brings dark skies and rough seas. Good weather brings sunny skies and calm seas. 

My rough seas include sadness from the loss of my grandma. Loneliness when Linsey is away, anxiety over investments, or an overall feeling of self-doubt in my ability to meet my expectations. 

My calm seas arise as I watch Linsey cry tears of joy in another Ironman victory, land a bright steelhead, grow mentally, physically and professionally, hug my mom and dad, pet my dog, meditate. These rolling waves warm my heart and make me happy. 

A new day brings new unpredictable weather on the horizon and a new set of waves. The weather and thus the waves, both good and bad, are ever-changing.

The Watcher
In this metaphor, I am the watcher. I sit on my stump on the beach. Watching. Watching the wind-battled waves coming from a storm followed by the gentle waves of a soothing sunrise. 

The only thing I can control as I watch my thoughts is my attitude. Even a rain jacket won't stop the rain. But a positive mindset tells me this nasty squall too will pass and bring new waves of happiness. 

I also realize my time to watch the waves will eventually come to an end, so I might as well enjoy the time I have. Maybe tomorrow, maybe decades from now. The weather and the waves will never stop, but the watcher will be gone.

Until then, you can find me on my stump – armed with my attitude – watching the waters that nearly claimed my fleeting life. 

Twice.  

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A special thanks to Ryan Wines for the strong and persistent book endorsement of The Untethered Soul.

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Another piece of writing inspired by my friends Mario Dot To and Nurture Theory (Ryan again). We believe the thinking that can only be found through public writing improves our lives. We call ourselves the Western Writers League and we’ll get pens made eventually.