Taylor Barada

Umberto Eco, who owned 50,000 books, had this to say about home libraries: "It is foolish to think that you have to read all the books you buy, as it is foolish to criticize those who buy more books than they will ever be able to read. It would be like saying that you should use all the cutlery or glasses or screwdrivers or drill bits you bought before buying new ones. There are things in life that we need to always have plenty of supplies, even if we will only use a small portion. If, for example, we consider books as medicine, we understand that it is good to have many at home rather than a few: when you want to feel better, then you go to the 'medicine closet' and choose a book. Not a random one, but the right book for that moment. That's why you should always have a nutrition choice! Those who buy only one book, read only that one and then get rid of it. They simply apply the consumer mentality to books, that is, they consider them a consumer product, a good. Those who love books know that a book is anything but a commodity."

We’ve been watching movies about time recently and they’re all telling the same story.   The character has some version of control over time. They can fast-forward, rewind, redo.   And in every single one, the arc is: he uses the power to try to optimize. Get the best outcomes. Avoid the boring parts. Skip to the good stuff.   And in every single one, the realization arrives slowly after a lot of pain and chaos: there are no boring parts. There is no good stuff to skip to. The whole thing IS the good stuff. The only button that matters is play.   I think about this when I notice myself treating the present like a waiting room for the future.   Reminder: just hit play.

Communication expert Jefferson Fisher showed me something I won’t forget... He calls it the string theory. When two people are talking, there’s an invisible string between them. If you check your phone, the string goes slack. Even just having it on the table breaks the connection. Here’s how he explained it 👇🏾

Sending a gratitude tweet to all of you. It's been an extremely difficult past few days. Feeling really sad about the state of the world. But I am grateful for the good people I am blessed to have in my orbit, who give me a lot of hope. I haven't shared this publicly before, but I am on an incredible journey of rediscovering my faith in the past 2 years. Believe it or not, what triggered this journey was a conversation I had with my son about quantum physics. We were learning about the Observer Effect--how just the mere act of observing something can change the quantum nature of that object. (Apologies for actual physicists who probably have a more sophisticated definition of this phenomenon). As we were studying this together, a conclusion I discovered within myself was that if I treat the world with love and positivity, I am actually making an impact in flipping positive qubits along my path, thereby strumming the vibrations of the universe in a way that can leave a legacy of positivity in the universe. Even beyond my own temporal life. This to me, is God. Accepting this has led me down a wonderful path in life, and has meaningfully changed how I think about relationships and how I treat my environment writ large. I also believe in the power of prayer, as an act of intentionally strumming positive vibrations in this universe. Not sure if any of this makes sense (just typing as I go!), but with all that said, my wish for you is to accept all of my love. And to feel love all around you. I will do all that I can to make a positive environment around me. I believe your life matters a lot, and that your ability to flip qubits in a positive way has far-reaching consequences that none of us may be capable of truly understanding. I pray for your peace, our world's peace, and an abundance of love for all of us to share.

This is actually insane.

A relevant section from Atomic Habits for anyone building a new habit this year: People often think it's weird to get hyped about reading one page or meditating for one minute or making one sales call. But the point is not to do one thing. The point is to master the habit of showing up. The truth is, a habit must be established before it can be improved. If you can't learn the basic skill of showing up, then you have little hope of mastering the finer details. Instead of trying to engineer a perfect habit from the start, do the easy thing on a more consistent basis. You have to standardize before you can optimize.

One of the most important things I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older is that most things don’t matter.  Whatever you’re trying to accomplish, there are usually just a couple of things on that to-do list that will actually make a difference. And I’m not saying the rest of the items on your list shouldn’t get done…I’m just saying they probably don’t need to be done well. There are two big benefits of taking this perspective. First, it means you can relax. So much of our daily stress comes from the feeling that we’re leaving things undone, or not doing them well, or that we “didn’t put in that extra 10%.” If you start from the assumption that not much really matters, you can let most things be imperfect. Second, it allows you to focus a disproportionate amount of time on the one or two things that do matter. Triage is such an underrated skill. But if you can correctly determine which one or two things will—if you get them right—make the difference between success and failure, then you can spend your time taking those to a high level of polish rather than wasting your time on everything else. It’s a power curve.

I’m a big guy. I’ve been lifting weights for ten years. I look intimidating, I guess. I was at Planet Fitness doing bench presses. I noticed a kid in the corner. He was maybe 16, really overweight. He was looking around like he was terrified someone was going to laugh at him. He walked over to the dumbbells, picked up the lightest ones, and did a few awkward curls. He stopped, looked in the mirror, and hung his head. He was about to leave. He looked like he was about to quit before he even started. I racked my weights and walked over to him. He flinched when he saw me coming. He thought I was going to make fun of him. 'Hey man,' I said. He looked down. 'I’m leaving, sorry.' 'No,' I said. 'I was just gonna say, your form is a little off. You’re gonna hurt your back.' I picked up a weight. 'Tuck your elbows. Like this. Slow down.' He copied me. 'There you go,' I grinned. 'That’s the muscle working.' We trained together for an hour. I showed him the ropes. At the end, he wiped the sweat off his forehead. 'I almost walked out,' he admitted. 'I felt stupid.' 'We all started somewhere,' I told him. 'I used to be 50 pounds heavier than you. The only bad workout is the one you didn't do.' He’s been my gym partner for six months now. He’s down 40 pounds. Strength isn't about how much you can lift. It’s about lifting others up with you.

In 2014, while I was with the Boston Red Sox organization, a very experienced coach taught me a powerful lesson. One day during Spring Training, a few very young minor-league players were making subtle excuses before they even stepped onto the field. One mentioned he hadn’t slept well. Another said that he doesn’t play well in the early morning. A third said he had just finished a workout and wasn’t going to perform well because he likes to lift weights after practice. This coach drew my attention to the micro-excuses players were making, explaining that they were using a “JIC”—a "Just In Case" reason for future poor performance. "It’s a subtle way players try to protect themselves", he said. Just in case they don’t play well, they’re already offering a reason why: poor sleep, the weather, the workout. It’s a form of self-sabotage—planting a seed that lowers expectations before their performance even begins. My wise friend explained that these “just in case” excuses quietly undermine an athlete’s ability to give their best. As coaches, we need to spot them, name them, and push back against them. He said that leaders should not let people pre-load reasons for failure by not allowing them to take their foot off the gas before the race even begins.

“Taxation isn’t theft. Capitalism is.” Zohran Mamdani majored in ‘African Studies’