I have a sort of natural aversion to (assuredly well-meaning) advice to allow yourself to be comfortable with doing nothing.

When people say that you should practice self-care, take mental health days, and “go easy on yourself,” I’m sure that their intentions are good. I don’t like when people say things like “we’re not machines,” because of course we are. And machines break down, need repairs, need refueling, etc. We are machines, and we must perform routine maintenance. I get that.

But for some reason, all of those well-meaning pieces of advice feel like traps.

Maybe it would be good for me to do nothing for an entire day. I don’t know, because I’ve never done that and probably never will. The world keeps spinning, and I do things because there are things that need to be done.

I get enough leisure, for sure. I have hobbies, and I play with my kids, and I go for walks, etc. I’m not “grinding” every second of every day. But I don’t skip any of those important things. We work before we play.

If you do find you’re pushing yourself too hard, going beyond the limits of what your mind and body can handle, then maybe you do need cool-off periods where you skip those things. But I think that’s very unhealthy, to be quite honest. I think the healthier method is to push yourself to your absolute limit, but never over that limit, every day. To be careful with what you do while still maximizing it.

You cannot slow the spinning of the world. You should keep up. If you lag behind it will leave you behind, but if you try to run faster than the world spins, you’ll miss things. Keep pace.

At least once every year, you should ask a question whose answer could change your life.

Look for opportunities to ask those questions. Opportunities to find truths that will shock you, to make bold requests that can propel you forward, or to learn about people who will mean the world to you.

If you don’t ask, you’ll never know.

Sometimes people argue over a concept – a heated intellectual debate, let’s say. I suggest that most of the time this is a fruitless endeavor.

Other times, people argue because they’re trying to enact a specific outcome. I suggest that almost always this is an even more fruitless endeavor.

If you are arguing with another person over a particular course of action, one of three things is true:

1. You are the final arbiter of the decision. There is no reason to argue.
2. The other person is the final arbiter of the decision. There is no reason to argue. Persuade, maybe, but mostly you should just plan to make the most out of the outcome you don’t want.
3. You have to reach a consensus in order to get the outcome you want. There is no reason to argue, because arguing isn’t a great way to persuade people.

You will see a lot more success in your life if you get really good at identifying those three scenarios, rather than trying to get better at arguing.

There is an absolutely essential skill for getting by in the modern world. Communicating effectively about your best exchanges.

There are three components to this:

1. Knowing, and effectively communicating, what you have to offer – the first side of the trade.
2. Knowing, and effectively communicating, what you want to receive – the other side of the trade.
3. Knowing, and effectively locating, the other people who will match #1 & #2.

All of life boils down to this. Really knowing what you have to give, what you want to receive, and who fits that desire is the essence of all interaction. That’s how you find dates, jobs, homes, friends, entertainment, books, hobbies, and good food.

The thing about this framework is that it’s self-reinforcing if you really understand it. If you first recognize that for anything at all to happen those three checkboxes need to be checked, you’ll see how important empathy is. Because everyone else has to check those boxes, too!

You can’t just know what you want. Even if you can articulate it perfectly, you also need to know what you have to offer, and recognize that not everyone wants what you’re offering. And even the people that do may not know who and where you are!

You need to get comfortable talking about these things. You need to be able to say what you want in a career, relationship, neighborhood, family, anything. You need to be able to truly listen when others do the same, even if they’re doing so imperfectly.

All of life is an auction house floor, and you’re bidding on everything constantly. Recognizing the process and embracing its lessons, instead of pretending it isn’t so, will make you happier with all your exchanges.

Two events is a pattern.

That’s an oversimplification, but there are certain times when it’s very accurate. One of those situations is when you pitch something frequently.

This happens if you’re in sales, obviously. It also happens if you’re actively job hunting (pitching yourself). It happens when you have to commonly make the same asks of people in any context. Many of those people will object or have excuses, and something you’ll quickly learn is that there are no unique ones.

Once you’ve heard two or three objections, you’ll never hear a new one again. In very short order, you can discover the common resistances.

Then – you preempt them.

If you answer an objection with an explanation, it just sounds argumentative and fake. If, however, you anticipate the objection and answer it before it gets raised, you take the wind out of the sails of your opposition.

Figure out why you’re getting rejected from jobs you interview for (how? ask!). Then, figure out the counter to that reason, and put it everywhere. In your applications, your resume, your cover letter, your online profiles, your interview answers. Everywhere. Make it absurd for anyone to ever raise that objection again, and they never will.

Big problems divide us. They create crusades and social movements and arguments. But small problems unite us; little shared frustrations connect you to people that share them. People may be at each other’s throats over major social issues, religious conflicts, and the like – but everyone hates traffic and will sympathize with someone stuck in it.

What was different? What unique thing happened today that never happened before, and never will again? What special glimmer of the universe, like pi eternal but never repeating, appeared before you?

Did you miss it? Look harder tomorrow. It’s there.

I think a small amount of intentional failure can do wonders to reinforce good habits. Like a controlled fire clearing away underbrush.

If you have a habit you’re trying to form, try breaking it for a day, but intentionally so. Pay very close attention to how you feel as, and after, you do so.

Making my bed, eating healthy, working out – these aren’t just things I do because I believe in their long-term benefits. I don’t like how I feel when I don’t do them. Indulging in a sugary snack doesn’t make me feel pleased or sated – it isn’t a guilty pleasure. It makes me feel gross.

Part of that is the necessary check. If you don’t feel good in the short term about your habits, it will be hard to maintain them. It also may not be worth it! What’s the point of working out every day to make your life longer, if working out makes you abjectly miserable?

“Form the healthiest habits possible, within the realm of staying at least 51% happy day-to-day,” is, I believe, pretty actionable advice. Find the best things you can do today, that also enable you to keep doing them.

And if that means stress-testing your choices here and there, that’s always good practice.

Today was a nice day, so I took my kids on an outing to a local park that they like. One of the other kids there, a lad of about 8, had a red, faux velvet attaché case, of the kind you might find cluttering the back of a thrift store.

He was more than willing to show me its contents. Here’s what he had inside this fabulous accessory:

• Some popcorn
• A jump-rope
• Six different Spider-Man action figures, of various sizes and variations.

All I’m saying is, some people figure out life early, man. They know what they like, and they put it in a red faux velvet attaché case and take it with them to the park.

There are, very very broadly speaking, two types of good things you can do in the world. You can provide a material benefit to someone, or you can make someone feel good. They aren’t mutually exclusive, of course. But ultimately those are the two outcomes you’re going for if you’re trying to do good in the world.

You can solve someone’s medical problem. You can build something for them. You can create financial opportunity for them. And so on – useful things. Everything from mowing someone’s lawn to saving them from a heart attack is useful. But usefulness does not have to be the only thing we judge by – in fact, to do so is a hollow measure.

We should also strive to make others happier. A kind word or a pleasant song carry very little in the way of usefulness per se, yet they bring tremendous value to a life. My two youngest children are pretty useless in terms of material benefit (though of course they’re a huge investment in future utility, as evidenced by the chores being performed already by my oldest), but all of my kids bring me so much joy it’s hard to describe.

You can see this dynamic playing out in micro versions everywhere. Go into any workplace with more than a few dozen employees and you’re likely to be able to find at least one who has their job not because they’re good at it, but because everyone enjoys working with them. People who slip through the performance evaluation cracks quarter after quarter because they’re kind, funny, pleasant, and endearing. The reverse is also true – sometimes you see someone in a workplace who’s a real jerk, but they don’t get fired because they’re an incredible performer at their profession. Both of those scenarios have limits at the extremes, but the general pattern pervades: you have to at least be one or the other.

As much as possible you should strive for both, of course. You should try to be useful and you should try to be pleasant. But there are lots of reasons that people might find it difficult to be useful. It happens. What amazes me is how often people who have trouble being useful also quickly default to becoming jerks.

People put a lot of their self-value into their own self-perception of usefulness. It’s natural, and I get it. And when that self-perception wanes because they feel like they aren’t being useful in whatever context matters to them, they get defensive and lash out. That’s also natural, and I also get it. But they shouldn’t. Being kind matters so much more than being useful. And you can always be kind.