Sometimes you simply cannot wait for the leaves to turn and the air to turn brisk. Let it be calmer, cooler, a little more soothing. An autumn balm. I am grateful.

When we believe something is impossible, it shuts down our creativity hard. How can you look for solutions when you know for a fact that there aren’t any?

But make one small shift and say, “this isn’t impossible, it’s only difficult,” and suddenly you’re charged up. Difficult things are interesting to solve, and the creative juices get flowing.

There’s a famous scene in Star Trek where Captain Kirk is faced with a simulated battle as a test. The test doesn’t hide it’s theme – the simulated battle is unwinnable, and the actual “test” is about how you react in that kind of situation. True to his character, Kirk hacks the computer before the exam to change the parameters of the simulation so he can win the battle. When confronted, he says: “I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

What a mindset! About a bajillion things throughout history have been “impossible” until someone did them. Almost universally, what follows is a bunch of other people doing the same thing, because now it isn’t impossible. It’s only difficult.

It was well-accepted for all of human history until very recently that humans couldn’t run a mile in under 4 minutes. That was simply out of our ability; humans can’t run a mile that quickly and more than we can fly. And then in 1954, Roger Bannister did it, obtaining the world record. That record lasted forty-six days. In the single year after this feat, more than a hundred people ran a sub-four-minute mile.

When everyone thought it was impossible, no one tried to do it. Once it was only difficult, it became a challenge to overcome.

What things do you think are impossible? Maybe, just maybe, they’re only difficult.

“You don’t have to be nice to me just because you’re upset.”

Of course I do. Of course we all do. That’s exactly when we have to be nice.

You will be upset in your life. If you let it rule you, let it cause you to be unkind, you have lost yourself. You don’t need to ignore the source of the emotion; you can, and should, discuss it. But for the love of humanity, be kind.

Tired is what you feel when you’ve worked your body and mind to their fullest and, satisfied with the day’s labors, you have a warm hearth and home waiting to embrace you.

Weary is what you feel when you’ve worked your soul to its fullest and you don’t.

It’s almost impossible to go a full year without a major tragedy or difficulty. It’s equally unlikely to go a full year without something marvelous happening.

The scales won’t always balance year by year, but in the long run, the arrow of time points toward happiness if you let it.

I find certain necessary activities to be very unpleasant. One of my least favorite activities is going into a store. Sometimes you have to go into one, but I never enjoy it. The lights, the atmosphere, the endless aisles of confusingly-organized stuff… ugh.

So to get through that experience, I go into what I call “monk mode.” This works best by myself, because a big part of it is sort of retreating into my own mind, letting my body do its thing on mostly auto-pilot while I let my brain think about other, more pleasant things. I walk out of the store with the stuff I need, having barely registered the experience.

This is a very useful ability, honed over many years. The ability to separate my higher and lower consciousness functions, letting my “higher mind” wander and enjoy itself while my more basic brain moves my body around to complete rote tasks is helpful in many situations. One drawback is that while my sensory perception can be managed by the lower brain, actual interaction with intention is only capable (so far) from my higher one. So if someone talks to me, my options are: respond like a dismissive jerk, or leave monk mode. Hence why I don’t like to go into stores with other people especially.

I’ve never really discussed this with anyone else – is “monk mode” something you do? Do you have some version of it? If so, what do you do?

A few nights ago, while my son (Age 7) was impressing me with his math skills, I gave him a little puzzle. I said, “Three squared equals nine. Four squared equals 16. 5 squared equals 25. What does ‘squared’ mean?” He asked a few follow-up questions and in short order had figured it out.

Tonight, while out at dinner, he asked me how to write ‘squared’ in an equation (his incorrect but very logical guess was that you actually drew a square). While writing it out, I gave him another little puzzle, shown in the picture. The only hint I gave him was that this was called “cubed” and wrote it out, wanting to see how he’d think about it.

With almost zero hesitation, he said, “Oh, 3 is one more than 2, so it must be one more times. So it’s 125.” Not only did he logic out what it meant with ease, but the actual equation was instant mental math for him.

My father once told me that I was about 7 or 8 when he realized that I was going to be smarter than him, and the great joy that brought him as a father. I don’t know if I ever actually lived up to that prediction, but now I certainly know the feeling.

One of the essential components for a genuine, proper apology is the promise to enact change. You can’t truly apologize if you don’t intend to change your behavior. It flows naturally from this axiom that you shouldn’t apologize for things you can’t change.

A simple example: Someone asks you to hand them something from a high shelf. You can’t reach it, so you can’t fulfill the request. When you tell the person that you can’t help them, even though you want to, don’t say “sorry!” There’s nothing to be sorry about – your height can’t change, ergo there’s nothing to apologize for.

And I know what you’re thinking: “I’m not apologizing for my height, but I’m expressing regret that I can’t help them,” blah blah blah. Look at the way those apologies creep into your language then! Look at the way you trick yourself into feeling responsible for the immutable conditions of the universe!

Now, sometimes there are things to apologize for that are related to things you can’t change. If you’re too short to reach the high shelf, that’s that. But if you’re constantly bugging other people to get things for you rather than storing those things on lower shelves or using a step-stool or some other solution, then you could definitely change something. Not your height, but your behavior. So if you find yourself saying, “Sorry I’m so short,” that’s a cop-out. You really should be apologizing for – and changing! – the fact that you aren’t taking agency over your own problems.

So don’t apologize for the universe. Instead, think of what you could change in response to it. Don’t be sorry – adapt!

I heard a cool new word from Swedish culture today, “fika.” It’s a neat little word for a neat thing: taking an intentional coffee and/or snack break to socialize and step away from whatever actual thing you’re doing.

That’s a neat concept, but it isn’t revolutionary. I joked that in South Jersey we have that too, but it’s called a “jeet yet?” (For those unfamiliar, it’s a joke about both the way it sounds when we quickly spit out the phrase “did you eat yet” as well as the fact that we use that basically as an open invitation to do anything together.)

What is revolutionary about it is naming it and being aware of the intention behind it. “Fika” isn’t just taking a break and eating. It’s shifting your mindset away from a task and onto socializing or building community. “Breaking bread” with someone, if you will.

Whatever language you use, do this more often. Build your relationships and your community. Take the time to breathe and eat together. Laugh. It’s as essential as the food itself.

I heard something very interesting today. I heard that for most people, the three main drivers of satisfaction at work are purpose, mastery, and autonomy. The ratios may change for the individuals, but those three things combined drive satisfaction far more than increases in money beyond “enough” or even pure status.

I find this compelling, though I’d love to see more data. I know that personally, being trusted with autonomy is a huge driver of my own satisfaction – I like a job about a thousand times more with it than without it, even if I was paid more, etc.

Definitely something to investigate further, because the implications of this for improving one’s own work satisfaction are staggering! If you have any data or anecdotes, please share!