Most People Don’t Care That Much About You, and That’s Fine

Your life is center stage. You are being watched. Despite the other 7 billion people in the world, the spotlight is on you, putting your every failure, imperfection, and blemish on display for all of us to analyze. This is a tough belief to hold in your head every day.

But it’s completely bogus.

This belief that everyone is watching us or that our lives are the focal point of others was first observed by the psychologist David Elkind in 1967. He called it the ‘imaginary audience,’ and noticed that this tendency was common, even normal among adolescents. We all experience the phase of fearing the disapproval of our family, peers, or strangers, and Elkind believed it was necessary to outgrow this phase in order to become more grounded in reality. But today it seems that it’s not only awkward tweens, but adults who struggle to shed this unwarranted performance anxiety that’s supposed to reside as we mature.

The case can be made that social media has exaggerated the effects of our own imaginary audiences. Our Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter feeds certainly blur the line between our perception of what others think about us and what people actually think. But that’s beside the point. For thousands of years, we’ve been trying to figure out how we can care less about what others think of us, or for that matter remind ourselves that people rarely even think of us at all.

In the first century AD, the Greek slave-turned-philosopher Epictetus discussed the hypothetical case of a musician who feels no anxiety while he practices by himself; but when he goes on stage he succumbs to pressure and can’t perform, even though he has the most talent. “For what he wishes is not only to sing well,” says Epictetus, “but likewise to gain applause. But this is not in his own power.”

How often do act the same way? With every completed task we flail and grasp for approval and admiration. We place less value on the merits of our work than the applause that follows it. And if that applause doesn’t come, we pout, make an excuse, or blame someone else.

Schopenhauer proposed a question nearly 1,700 years after Epictetus died which I refer to often: “Would a musician feel flattered by the applause of his audience if it were known to him that it consisted entirely of deaf people?”

Your metaphorical “audience” today might as well be entirely deaf because 99.9 percent of people don’t care what you’re doing. Behind the likes and retweets is a desert of apathy and carelessness. They don’t care about your Snapchat story. They don’t care how your hair looks. They don’t care that you graduated or won a trophy. But we insist that the spotlight is shining brightly upon us in both good and bad times. We insist that the tribe really does care.

Steven Pressfield sums this up well in his book Turning Pro:

“The amateur dreads becoming who she really is because she fears that this new person will be judged by others as ‘different.’ The tribe will declare us ‘weird’ or ‘queer’ or ‘crazy.’ The tribe will reject us. Here’s the truth: the tribe doesn’t give a shit. There is no tribe. That gang or posse is, in fact, a conglomeration of individuals who are just as fucked up as we are and just as terrified.

Each individual is so caught up in his own bullshit that he doesn’t have two seconds to worry about yours or mine, or to reject or diminish us because of it. When we truly understand that the tribe doesn’t give a damn, we’re free. There is no tribe, and there never was. Our lives are entirely up to us.”


Dominic Vaiana studies writing and media strategy at Xavier University.  You can get the PDF “11 Immutable Writing Lessons from Legendary Authors” along with his personal articles, essays, interviews, and book recommendations by joining his monthly newsletter.

‘Inspiration is for Amateurs,’ Says One Mesmerizing Artist. I Agree.

Chuck Close, a 76-year-old master of photorealist painting, suffers from dyslexia, temporary paralysis, and a condition known as prosopagnosia which disables his capacity to recognize faces. One would imagine that he needs a great deal of inspiration to continually produce great work. But the opposite is true – Chuck Close despises inspiration.

“Inspiration is for amateurs,” he says. “The rest of us just show up and get to work.”

In spite of his grim health condition, Chuck Close has produced some of the most mesmerizing and sought-after art of this century, all seemingly without any sort of extrinsic motivation. This begs the question: Do we have it all wrong when we assume inspiration is a requisite for great achievements?

Tacking a motivational quote on our wall or setting it as our phone wallpaper seems like a great idea at first. It might get us excited for a day or two. But that feeling always seems to fade as quickly as it appears. All of the inspirational speeches, songs, movies, and so on spike our dopamine levels; as Close recognized though, the inspiration that arises out of that thrill has nothing to do with action. It has everything to do with getting us in the mood for action, even if we don’t end up taking it. Many would use this theory as evidence as to why self-help authors and speakers never run out of business: if inspiration worked, the demand for it would no longer exist.

There is something hardwired into people like Chuck Close that allows them to get things done without having to feel thrilled about it. Instead of having an on/off switch that creates spurts of motivation and slumps of procrastination, they maintain a steady flame of productivity. Oliver Burkeman explains this more clearly than I can:

“The daily rituals and working routines of prolific authors and artists – people who really do get a lot done – very rarely include techniques for ‘getting motivated’ or ‘feeling inspired.’ Quite the opposite: they tend to emphasize the mechanics of the working process, focusing not on generating the right mood, but on but accomplishing certain actions, regardless of mood.”

Michael Jordan didn’t have to feel inspired to score 55 points in a playoff game. Steve Jobs didn’t have to listen to Ted Talks to convince himself to develop a the iPhone. They just did it. Their drive came from repetition and discipline, not validation. They understood that feeling like acting and taking action are two separate entities.

The problem with seeking out inspiration is that it adds another barrier between ourselves and the goal: in order to achieve X, I’ll motivate myself, then get to work. Why not just do the work instead? I’ll take 500 sloppy words, a less-than-perfect workout, or a troubling study session over ‘feeling inspired’ any day.

I hope this didn’t inspire you to be uninspired.


Dominic Vaiana studies writing and media strategy at Xavier University.  You can get the PDF “11 Immutable Writing Lessons from Legendary Authors” along with his personal articles, essays, interviews, and book recommendations by joining his monthly newsletter.

8 Books Under 150 Pages Every College Student Should Read

No need for a long introduction here. These eight books are quick reads filled with wisdom attributed to all sorts of people ranging from ancient Greek slaves to 21st century business masterminds.

On The Shortness of Life by Seneca (105 pages)

I’ve never read a book so old that’s as applicable to 2017 as this one. A practitioner of Stoicism, Seneca’s insights on wealth, jealously, power, and happiness are as useful today as they were when he was advising his students (including Nero) in Ancient Greece during the first century AD: “Envy you’ll escape if you haven’t imposed yourself on other people’s notice, if you haven’t flaunted your possessions, if you’ve learned to keep your satisfaction to yourself.” Don’t expect a college textbook when you read this. Seneca differs from other “philosophers” in that he’s practical – he doesn’t ask esoteric questions that have no answers. He’s easy to understand and you’ll have a collection of great quotes by the time you finish.

 

Turning Pro by Steven Pressfield (146 pages)turningpro_book

I’m a big fan of Pressfield’s best-known book, The War of Art, and this follow-up is equally down-to-earth and provocative. He relentlessly confronts our ever-present fear of abandoning the “amateur” life and outlines what it takes to shed comfort in order to live as a professional in the craft we pursue. It’s pages are packed with the kind of old fashioned wisdom that gives you the kick in the ass you need every once in awhile.

 

 

 

The Dip by Seth Godin (96 pages)

Although The Dip is Seth Godin’s shortest book by far, the lesson it provides is his most valuable in my opinion. Every idea for a business, product, book, app, or whatever sounds like a blast at first. But what happens when we face the inevitable barriers and setbacks? Seth calls this “the dip,” and asserts that true winners know when to ride out the dip and when to call it quits. The Dip explains how to make that decision. Although he’s a pioneer of modern-day business and marketing, Seth’s insights on goals and strategic quitting are applicable to just about any aspect of life.

 

 

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius (112 pages)

“The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury;” “If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it, and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.” These are just two reflections from the 2000+ year old journal-turned-book of the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius (yeah, the guy from Gladiator) which documents his quest for inner peace and virtue during times of war and turmoil. The people he governed literally worshipped him as a god; he could have anything he desired. But the insights in his book reflect his emotional sobriety and mental clarity. If the most powerful man in the world could tame his ego, so can you. If you spend one dollar on a book, make it this one.

 

The Way to Love by Anthony de Mello (196 mini pages)51mwbiYtl8L._SX350_BO1,204,203,200_

When I first got this tiny book, I thought I’d finish it in a couple of hours. But two years after I first read it, I’m nowhere close to absorbing all the insights and guidance that it offers. The late Anthony de Mello was a Jesuit priest, but his writing cuts across cultures: it’s is clear, practical, and calming, and packed with timeless lessons about all facets of life. I could read the book a thousand times and feel like I was reading something new each time. De Mello insists that he nor any other anyone else has the power to “change your life” – only we can do that for ourselves. But he concedes that we do need clues and hints to get on the right path, and I think this book is a great first step for anyone, no matter where we are in life.

 

 The Prince by Machiavelli (80 pages)

This is one of the most controversial books of all time, which is why many history classes reference it, but also why so many people misunderstand it. It’s easy to play off Machiavelli as a cold hearted politician obsessed with gaining power, but this ignores the fact that the residue of his writings is still visible in today’s politics. The Prince is a stark reflection of what works in the realm of power and what doesn’t. Nobody said you had to agree with him, but the price of ignoring history is remaining clueless about the present.

 

 

 The Moral Sayings of Publilius Syrus: A Roman Slave (92 pages)

The best philosophy often comes from people who never labeled themselves “philosophers.” That is, they don’t study it in an academic light – they live it and practice its virtues. As a slave in ancient Rome, Syrus developed this handbook of practical wisdom that sharpened his mind and enabled him to live a full life in spite of his horrendous circumstances. The book is comprised entirely of independent quotes, (doesn’t matter where you pick up or leave off) and is just as practical today as it was over 2,000 years ago. Some of my favorite sayings include: “When the tree has fallen, anyone can cut wood” and “Better to be ignorant of a matter than half know it.”

 

 

Why Don’t We Learn from History? by B.H. Liddell Hart (126 pages)

“Fools learn from experience,” said Otto von Bismarck. “I prefer to learn from the experience of others.” B.H. Liddell Hart references this quote in the opening pages of this book after posing the question: What the purpose of studying history? He notes that while we we flail aimlessly trying to solve today’s complex issues, the truth often lies in the study of the past. But even if history can’t tell us precisely how to act in a given situation, it can serve tell us what to avoid, which is perhaps more important. Written by perhaps the most respected historian of the 20th century, this book is a call to drop our prejudices of what the past was so we can see the truth clearly when it matters the most: now.

 

All of these books were included in my previous monthly newsletters – If you’d like to sign up to receive more recommendations, you can sign up here.

Classical Music: The Secret Weapon for Being Ultra-Productive

You’ll have to dig past the “hot tracks” of Apple Music and the “Fresh Finds” of Spotify. Way past. Older than “Ice Cream Paint Job” and “Throw Some D’s” and into the depths of the robot-curated playlists. Beyond the allure of fan-favorite tunes lies the most useful, and probably the oldest, genre of music on these platforms: classical.

I don’t remember how or why I first got hooked on classical music. I probably thought it made me feel cultured or intelligent as an 18-year-old college freshman. Since then, though, it’s become clear that the music itself has nothing to do with making someone smart or boosting mental performance. But it has everything to do with keeping you focused, calm, and creative, of which getting shit done is usually a byproduct.

The Mozart Effect (the theory that listening to Mozart positively alters the brain) has been debunked. But Duke University’s Dr. Kevin Labar says that classical music can still improve intellectual performance without raising your IQ. He notes that classical music can produce a calming effect by releasing dopamine and stopping the release of stress hormones, generating a pleasant mood. “And inducing a pleasant mood,” says Labar, “seems to clarify thinking.”

Classical music, or any music for that matter, obviously can’t compensate for a lack of effort or chronic procrastination. That’s like spending $300 a month on nutrition supplements but refusing to go to the gym. Instead, it eliminates unconscious thoughts and lowers your heart rate, streamlining the creative process. We can agree that no meaningful work gets done, whether it’s writing, studying, etc., when the mind is racing or the body is tense. Classical music alleviates both of these issues.

In one of Spotify’s blog posts, classical music (unsurprisingly) didn’t crack its top 10 list of most-streamed genres, getting beat out by “indietronica,” “indie poptimism,” and the ever-popular “stomp and holler.” Forget these rankings, though. If you’re not listening to classical music, you’re doing yourself and your work a disservice.

It’s not for everyone, though.

I know classmates who listen to pop hits when they write papers. Their rationale for doing so? I love my music! I’m they do. That’s also why they produce 6th grade level work and can barely put together a coherent sentence. They use music to distract themselves from the task and pass the time, not to concentrate.

Frederic Chopin
Frederic Chopin

There’s something about the music not having words, its simplicity, that makes it so effective. Bach, Vivaldi, Tchaikovsky, Chopin – you can’t go wrong with any of them. Maybe it’s a placebo effect and this whole article is pointless. Or maybe these old dead guys really are the saving grace for a culture drowning in a sea of trivial distractions. Either way, it’s worth a listen.

Just make sure you don’t accidentally play a cello suite when when someone rides in your car. It’s embarrassing.


Dominic Vaiana studies writing and media strategy at Xavier University.  His personal articles, essays, interviews, and book recommendations are sent in his monthly newsletter.

This Sociologist Says We’re Not Materialistic Enough – She’s Not Crazy

When my grandparents were my age, shopping and fashion revolved around winter, spring, summer, and fall trends. Those on a tighter budget may have only shopped for two seasons: cold and warm. Fast forward to 2017 and the fashion industry has manufactured over 50 “micro-seasons,” the goal of which, according to Factory45 founder Shannon Whitehead-Lohr, is to get consumers to buy as much stuff as possible in the shortest time span.

We’ve heard the safe and easy explanation for this over and over: We’re a materialistic society; we’re obsessed with clothes and gadgets. The Atlantic even suggests that 80 percent of Americans think our culture is too materialistic. But there is a more complex question that lies behind this: Are we actually concerned with acquiring more things, or is it the stories we tell ourselves about those things that leads us into an endless cycle of buying?

Juliet Schor, a professor of sociology at Boston College and author of The Overspent American: Why We Want What We Don’t Need, is a contemporary expert on radical consumer behavior. When it comes to materialism, she argues that we need to become true materialists in the sense that we genuinely care about the material quality of goods. “Instead,” says Schor, “we’re in a world in which material goods are so important for their symbolic meaning…what they do to position us in a status system.

In other words, we’re materialistic in the everyday sense of the word, but arguably the least materialistic generation of people in the true sense of the word.

I initially disagreed with Schor’s theory, but in the following days it began to make more sense. Do we buy a new iPhone or the latest Jordan shoe release because its quality is dramatically higher than whatever we already own? Or do we buy to mitigate our insecurities and tell ourselves a story?

What we’re concerned with is rarely about the product itself. Hypothetically, if it were proven that a pair of Sketchers was better for your feet and stayed intact longer than your Nikes, would you make the switch? As pathetic as it sounds, I probably wouldn’t. We care about the authority and esteem of the product, as if fabric and rubber can have either. An advertisement tells us little about the product being sold, but everything about the dreams and insecurities of the people who might buy it. We purchase an image, an ideal. This is as distant from material as we can get.

The late media theorist and cultural critic Neil Postman recognized this as early as 1992 in his book Technopoly:

“What the advertiser needs to know is not what is right about the product but what is wrong about the buyer…The business of business becomes pseudo-therapy; the consumer, a patient reassured by psychodramas.”


Dominic Vaiana studies writing and media strategy at Xavier University.  His personal articles, essays, interviews, and book recommendations are sent in his monthly newsletter.

From Janitor to U.S. President: A Timeless Lesson About Feeling Entitled

Sir Henry Royce, the co-founder of Rolls Royce, had this Latin phrase inscribed on his mantle: Quidvis recte factum quamvis humble praeclarum – “Whatever is rightly done, however humble, is noble.”

There is a tendency among my generation to feel perpetually dissatisfied. I’m not learning anything from this class. This job doesn’t pay enough. I deserve a better internship. But when we see life through the lens of our inflated expectations, we fail to recognize the truth that Sir Henry Royce embodied: how you do anything is how you do everything.

Maybe you’re making coffee despite having a college degree. Maybe you got beat out for a job by someone you feel is less qualified than you. Any number of situations can cause us to feel frustrated, stuck, defeated. But the idea that any of this is unfair is delusional. The reality is we don’t deserve anything, and circumstances often lie outside of our control.

What we do have control over, however, is our response to these circumstances. Do we throw a pity party for ourselves? Or do we embrace our position and see it as an opportunity to progress, learn, and grow?

James Garfield, the 20th President of the United States, paid his way through college in the 1850s by convincing his school, the Western Reserve Eclectic Institute, to let him work as a janitor in exchange for tuition. He worked with pride each day, up-keeping the facilities hours before he would begin his school day. Within one year at the school he was teaching a full course as a professor in addition to his own studies. By age twenty-six he was named the Dean of Students. This isn’t to say working hard as a janitor is the best path to the presidency, but Garfield’s story perfectly illustrates how a shift of mentality is the difference between feeling sorry for yourself and reaching your potential. He understood the distinction between wanting something and feeling entitled to it.

A mentor of mine once told me, “If you’re to big to do the small things, you’re too small to do the big things.” This is why I put up with pulling weeds, scrubbing floors, and peeling potatoes when I was sixteen. Sure, I wanted more, but acting as if what we desire is no different than what we deserve is dangerous. Ironically, the people I’ve known who claimed they were “too good” for their positions tended to have the most trouble advancing.

As Andrew Carnegie famously said, our first jobs should introduce us to the broom.


Dominic Vaiana studies writing and media strategy at Xavier University.  His personal articles, essays, interviews, and book recommendations are sent in his monthly newsletter.

You’re Probably Not Getting a Free Red Swimsuit, But You Did Contribute to the Biggest Publicity Stunt of 2017. Congrats.

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What did you expect from two Arizona frat stars?

Yes, indeed. The founders of Sunny Co. Clothing and the masterminds behind the red swimsuit saga are Alan Alchalel and Brady Silverwood, two University of Arizona undergrads who, according to their lovely bio, “have been friends since the 5th grade!” Screen Shot 2017-05-03 at 2.42.26 PMBut even more interesting than girls buying overpriced ($64) pieces of fabric to cover their private parts from two bros behind a laptop in Tucson is the bold gonzo-marketing stunt that these guys unleashed today.

“Sharing is caring,” the Instagram promotion reads. “EVERYONE that reposts and tags us in this picture within the next 24 HOURS will receive a FREE Pamela Sunny Suit.” As I write this, there are over 300,000 reposts for this promotion. Alan and Brady now have two options: shell out some serious cash to give away hundreds of thousands of swimsuits, or say “We didn’t expect such a huge response!” withdraw the offer, and enjoy the free publicity.

If I was a betting man, I’d place my money on the latter.

How do you get attention in an attention economy? Boring things (like swimsuits) are expensive to market traditionally. In order for a neutral product to go viral, it takes a shocking or controversial tactic, maybe even something that risks the reputation of the product itself.

Offering a free swimsuit to anyone who shares a picture is a pseudo-event: it’s planted for the solely for the purpose of being talked about. It’s engineered to be newsworthy, and the conversation shifts from the product itself to the controversy over whether Sunny Co. Clothing is legit or not. The result is social media chatter and millions of website visits, neither of which happen with a paid advertisement.

Chances are the people who shared the picture won’t get a free swimsuit. But even if they do, that’s not what this is all about. It’s about making Sunny Co. Clothing the first brand anybody talks about when they buy swimsuits this summer.

As one tweet read this afternoon, “If you say gullible really slow it kinda sounds like ‘repost for a free swimsuit from sunny co clothing.’”


Dominic Vaiana studies writing and media strategy at Xavier University.  His personal articles, essays, interviews, and book recommendations are sent in his monthly newsletter.

The Weird Similarities Between Social Media and Online Dating

The Pew Research Center reports that 15% of American adults have used some form of online dating, a number that has steadily increased since the dawn of Match.com in 1995. The stereotypes surrounding these users – basement-dwelling, overweight, awkward – whether you agree with them or not, exist.

What losers, says the twenty-something. How desperate can these people be that they exaggerate their accomplishments and looks then sit behind a screen waiting for validation? Can’t they just find companionship like normal people?

 For many young people, it seems taboo for such behavior in regards to romantic relationships. But when it comes to the same behavior for social relationships, validation from behind the screen becomes the norm and is even admired.

“[Millennials] are growing up in a Facebook-Instagram world; in other words, we’re good at putting filters on things,” says author and consultant Simon Sinek. “We’re good at showing people that ‘life is amazing even though I’m depressed.’”

I’m not here to take a stance on Internet dating or social media. But I am here to lay out the similarities of both so you can decide for yourself which one is more shallow. As I was researching for this article, I noticed that each similarity between social media and online dating fell into two categories, the first of which is the urge for dopamine.
phoneEngagement with social media releases the reward-chemical dopamine – this is why getting notifications feels good. It’s why we count our “likes” and log onto social media apps when we’re bored, lonely, anxious, or depressed. When people acknowledge us, however superficial that acknowledgement is, it feels good. When someone posts “Happy birthday!” on Facebook or retweets us, a signal is sent to our brain telling us we’re relevant and desired. And the more of it we get, the more dependent the brain becomes dependent on apps for temporary relief. Soon enough it becomes an addiction.

“If you’re sitting at dinner with your friends and you’re texting somebody who’s not there, that’s an addiction,” says Sinek. “It sends a subconscious message that ‘you’re not that important.’ If you wake up and check your phone before you say good morning to your boyfriend, girlfriend, or spouse, you have an addiction.”

This same chemical dependency occurs with online dating. When a user is matched with someone on a dating site, he or she gets a rush of dopamine to the brain, a feeling which is most useful within the same emotional states that we log onto social media: bored, lonely, anxious, or depressed. We run into a problem, though, when we believe this is the best way to fulfill ourselves.

Whether a hit of dopamine comes from social media or eHarmony makes no difference to the human brain. But in our culture it’s the difference between being cool and potentially getting labeled as a social outcast.

The remaining similarities fell into a category that’s best described as the pursuit of perfection. We’re quick to share our ideal selves on social media: our proudest achievements, our daily highlights, our perfect relationships. We have external apps to enhance our best pictures, because Instagram’s built-in filters don’t make us look “good enough.”

Yet we wouldn’t dare tweet our failures, Instagram our dissatisfaction, and Snapchat our imperfections. Scrolling through this infinite buffet of people’s curated lives creates the illusion that what we see is all there is, when in fact we’re blind to the 99.9% of their lives that are conveniently edited out.

Sites like eHarmony and Match.com function along these same exact premises.

“Online dating promises to open up something absolutely wonderful,” says modern-day philosopher and author Alain de Botton. “It encourages the idea that good relationships are conflict-free…and that any conflict or imperfection is wrong.”

Our fear of rejection prompts us to hide any traces of weakness and vulnerability. But ironically, confronting those exact feelings often leads to more genuine romantic and social relationships. The idea that technology can make human relationships easier is seductive. It eliminates the need for patience, we can connect and disconnect at our convenience, and we can save ourselves the awkwardness of unplanned interactions. But it may be possible that our technology has outpaced the evolution of our brains.

“Where is the app that will teach us how to read human behavior?” asks de Botton.

It’s unclear whether that task will ever become easier, but for now it’s safe to say neither Instagram nor Match.com is the solution.


Dominic Vaiana studies writing and media strategy at Xavier University.  His personal articles, essays, interviews, and book recommendations are sent in his monthly newsletter.

Does Copying Successful People’s Routines Decrease Productivity?

Navy SEAL veteran Jocko Willink wakes up at 4:30 a.m. every single day. You may have seen his popular video on Business Insider in which he explains the benefits of such an early start and why others would do well to adopt this habit.

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“Just on a practical side, if you wake up early in the morning — like at 4:30 in the morning — you’re going to have some free time to yourself to make things happen,” says Willink. “It’s not fun to get out of bed early in the morning. When the alarm goes off, it doesn’t sing you a song, it hits you in the head with a baseball bat. So how do you respond to that? Do you crawl underneath your covers and hide? Or do you get up, get aggressive, and attack the day?”

Point taken.

This routine and mindset has propelled Jocko not only to a decorated military career, but to successful ventures as an author, speaker, and leader in general. To argue whether or not he would have the same résumé if he woke up at 5 instead of 4:30 is irrational. It’s equally irrational, however, to assume that since Jocko’s routine worked for him, it can work for everyone else, too.

Tim Ferriss hosted Jocko on his podcast earlier this fall to discuss the topics of discipline and leadership. It’s a must listen and I highly recommend it. Jocko is one of hundreds of influencers whose advice has been distilled into Ferriss’ mammoth of a book, Tools of Titans. Ferriss has realized a key point, however, that he touched on during his Talk at Google: there is no secret formula for routines. You just need to have a routine – one that’s both consistent and effective.

It seems as though once anyone succeeds at something through a specific process or strategy it’s quickly adopted by others and becomes codified, often to everyone’s disappointment when it doesn’t replicate the same results.

I would imagine that a decent chunk of the people who listened to Jocko’s advice actually attempted to wake up at 4:30 that same week only to find themselves unable to sustain the habit. This is not because of laziness or a lack of discipline, but because waking up at 4:30 isn’t tailored to their specific needs.

The problem lies not in the idea that we are unmotivated, but that we believe there is a blueprint for success, for wealth, for happiness. The author Robert Greene puts it best:

“The world is full of people looking for a secret formula for success and power. They do not want to think on their own; they just want a recipe to follow. They are attracted to the idea of strategy for that very reason. In their minds strategy is a series of steps to be followed toward a goal. They want these steps spelled out for them by an expert or guru. Believing in the power of imitation, they want to know exactly what some great person has done before. Their maneuvers in life are as mechanical as their thinking.”

You’ve seen it before: X celebrity shares their secrets that allow him/her to achieve X, Y, and Z! We follow these steps blindly while ignoring our individual strengths and weaknesses. In a culture of immediate gratification, this kind of static thinking is a recipe for frustration when immediate results aren’t achieved. How much better off would we be if we used these influencers’ advice to inspire our routines as opposed to taking them as gospel?

The opportunists, creatives, and leaders of today stand out not because they replicate formulas but because they are able to focus relentlessly on the present moment – on what suits them best. The greatest routine is the one that produces the best you, no matter what that entails.

As Abraham Lincoln said: “My policy is to have no policy.” Steady yet nimble; disciplined yet fluid.


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How Will You Feel About That in 10 Years? A Rule for Tough Decisions

Instinctive reactions are kind of like the “door close” button on an elevator: useless.

Not too long ago, I agreed to set up a meeting with someone, only to have him call and cancel as I was pulling into the parking garage. I left class early to make it there on time and I woke up an hour earlier to fit it in my schedule. Was it acceptable to be annoyed and frustrated? Probably. My pouting lasted about an hour, after which I moved on with the rest of my day. I actually forgot about the incident until just now when I needed to think of an example of a useless, instinctive reaction.

But that’s the point.

Looking back, we realize that so much time is squandered giving in to situations and people that have absolutely no effect on our future – we often can’t even remember what we were mad about yesterday. So why do we still let ourselves ruin the present moment? The answer probably lies in some physiological explanation of reactions that I’m unqualified to write about. But there is a tool we can implement to keep our short-term emotions under control.

The 10/10/10 rule asks us to evaluate our reactions using three different time frames:

            How will you feel about it 10 minutes from now?

            How about 10 months from now?

            How about 10 years from now?

I first learned about 10/10/10 through Chip and Dan Heath’s book Decisive: How to Make Better Choices in Life and Work. And while this strategy was originally intended to help people make better decisions about their health, jobs, and finances, I’ve found that 10/10/10 is equally helpful for less tangible situations. For example: How 3d-decisive-book1will you feel about the guy who cut you off in traffic in 10 minutes? 10 months? 10 years?

It may seem ridiculous, but it forces us to look at our daily decisions as investments instead of letting people and events arbitrarily dictate our feelings. It helps you realize how trivial 99% of problems truly are. Realizing that in a matter of days you’ll almost never remember that thing that’s currently draining your energy and wellbeing is an ultimately liberating feeling.

One of my favorite authors, Anthony de Mello, sums up this concept much more eloquently:

 “Life is infinitely greater than this trifle your heart is attached to and which you have given the power to so upset you. Trifle, yes, because if you live long enough a day will easily come when it will cease to matter. It will not even be remembered – your own experience will confirm this. Just as today you barely remember, are no longer the least bit affected by those tremendous trifles that so disturbed you in the past.”

The best part of 10/10/10 is that it’s so dynamic. Considering the three time frames can be applied to virtually every decision. Will you regret spending hundreds of dollars on shoes ten years from now? Will you still be upset about a breakup with your girlfriend/boyfriend in a decade? Is it worth getting mad over a text or Snapchat that you won’t remember in 10 minutes, much less 10 years?

Spare your day’s worth of mental energy for the things you actually value.

Short term emotions are a deterrent to rational thinking. And while conducting a 10/10/10 analysis doesn’t guarantee that the long-term perspective is the right one, it does guarantee that your short-term emotion isn’t the only voice at the table.


Dominic Vaiana studies writing and media strategy at Xavier University.  His personal articles, essays, interviews, and book recommendations are sent in his monthly newsletter.