A Tale of Two Eating Philosophies

I've been thinking about this food dichotomy:

  1. Eat whatever you want and enjoy it; life is short.
  2. Eat healthy and take care of yourself; live longer.

In general, I tend to fall into the second camp. I want to live a long life, so I love to eat healthy and exercise.

But once in a while — like this weekend — I do enjoy going on a total food bender and indulging in some of my favorite vices.

I had a crazy Saturday. After about four hours of sleep, I drove out to West Hartford Center for a public yoga class with hundreds of other people in the middle of Lasalle Road. Then I had to cut my friend's dad's lawn before making it to Mill Pond Park at 11, where my students were putting on a karate demonstration at the Newington Extravaganza. I got home, showered, changed, and drove to North Branford for my friends' apartment-warming/graduation/birthday party, where I proceeded to eat everything in sight. Burgers, shish kebab, buffalo chicken egg rolls (oh my god), pasta salad, potato salad, cake, cookies, and more. Then I drove to Cheshire to pick up a friend of mine, and we drove to Bridgeport to see Primus at the Gathering of the Vibes festival. I got home around three in the morning and promptly passed out with my clothes still on.

It was great.

If I lived every day like that, I'd probably collapse from exhaustion pretty quickly. But it felt good to burn my candle all the way down for a change. It was a blast, actually.

I think it's the same with eating.

As I sat in a lawn chair at the party, drinking my first rootbeer in probably six years and laboriously trying to digest a double cheeseburger, I remembered that some people eat like this every day. I can't even imagine what that's like, and I have no desire to find out. When I splurge, I always look forward to eating healthy again and to getting back on the path.

So while I choose to eat healthy most of the time in the hopes of living a long and happy life, I have no regrets about eating myself silly this weekend. I was among friends, and we were celebrating. Not just a particular event, but life in general.

And it is short, no matter what we do.

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Where Are My Friends?

When it comes to friendships, I've always favored quality over quantity.

Growing up as a geeky, introverted kid, that makes total sense. When I was younger, I was far more interested in my studies, reading, or playing video games than I was in being a social butterfly. In many ways, I still am.

Being a geek when you're little is, to say the least, inconvenient. But as I got older and went to college, I began to wear my social selectivity as a badge of honor. I had little desire to allow anyone into my life who didn't positively contribute to it. Not that I would forcibly reject people — I'd just be content with allowing certain relationships to fade away. To let them be what they were, nothing more, and not try to force anything out of politeness or desperation.

As our dad likes to point out, my sister and I are complete opposites, especially when it comes to our social lives. Through her, I've noticed how being selective with friendships has its advantages and disadvantages. I don't think my sister has ever been without plans, somewhere to be, or someone to hang out with. Or so it seems to me, anyway. That's really awesome, and there are plenty of times when I wish my phone was going off all the time, if only to have someone to talk to.

On the other hand, the more friends you have, the more likely you are to encounter drama on a somewhat regular basis.

If a relationship causes me more drama than its worth, I let it go. If I want to get through life as contently as possible, eliminating unnecessary people is one of my most valuable strategies.

What I'm beginning to realize now, though, is that as I get older, I find myself having to eliminate unnecessary people less and less. That is, I'm meeting new people far more infrequently.

A few days ago, Alex Williams wrote an article for the New York Times about the challenge of making friends as an adult:

As external conditions change, it becomes tougher to meet the three conditions that sociologists since the 1950s have considered crucial to making close friends: proximity; repeated, unplanned interactions; and a setting that encourages people to let their guard down and confide in each other, said Rebecca G. Adams, a professor of sociology and gerontology at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. This is why so many people meet their lifelong friends in college, she added.

I met most of my best friends in college. We saw each other, laughed, cried, and lived life together every day. It was amazing, in retrospect. Now I only talk to most of them every few weeks, if I'm lucky, and since we've all moved back to our respective areas of the country, I see them far less often than I'd like.

But they're still my best friends.

I made some best friends in grad school, too, and I'm grateful that I still talk to them as often as I do.

But none of them are here right now. None of them are down the hall or upstairs. Most aren't in the same town, let alone the same state.

Since moving out of my parents' house, I've felt their absence more than ever. There are days when I wake up, read, write, work out, cook, and eat without ever talking to another person. Sometimes it's not until I go to work or yoga or run errands that I hear my own voice. And though I love solitude as much as the next writer/geek/introvert, we do miss our friends.

I tell you this not out of a desire for pity, of course. Being out on my own is great, and I wouldn't trade my best friends for all the acquaintances in the world. It's merely been the observation at the forefront of my mind lately.

As I get older, I don't see myself suddenly gaining five new friends a week as one might do in college. In fact, when I try to imagine where my next good friend is going to come from, I can't come up with an obvious answer. There are no more classes. There are no more parties in the quad. Right now — and with the kind of job I want — there aren't even any coworkers.

It is, admittedly, a bit scary.

Alex Williams:

People have an internal alarm clock that goes off at big life events, like turning 30. It reminds them that time horizons are shrinking, so it is a point to pull back on exploration and concentrate on the here and now. “You tend to focus on what is most emotionally important to you,” [Laura L. Carstensen, a psychology professor who is the director of the Stanford Center on Longevity in California] said, “so you’re not interested in going to that cocktail party, you’re interested in spending time with your kids.”

I don't know if I'm OK with pulling back on exploration, of the self or otherwise. But I do know — so far — who I want alongside me at 30 and beyond.

There are billions of people out there, and not all of them are worth knowing.

So when I find someone who is, I'm going to make sure they know it.

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The Amount of Time You Have

As listeners of the ZenGeek Podcast will recall, I had dinner with my family over the weekend, and my sister was contemplating what to do with her two huge closets worth of clothes when she relocates to Rhode Island at the end of the summer.

That got me thinking, and I realized that if she hadn't had two huge closets, she — theoretically — wouldn't have as many clothes.

If you have the space, you'll eventually manage to fill it. If you have a huge house, you'll eventually fill it with stuff. Consciously or not.

The same is true with time and work. I can take pretty much as long as I want on my thesis as long as I keep filling out the Incomplete extension form. No wonder I've taken fifteen months to write the thing! There's no sense of urgency. If I had a deadline with real consequences, I probably could have finished it in half the time.

Many of us have eight hour work days. It's bizarre that we can procrastinate and stretch the simplest task so that — seven and a half hours later — we still haven't done it. Imagine how much you could get done if you only had two hours to do it all.

The amount of time you have is the amount of time it will take.

On the other hand, it's amazing how much you can get done in just a few minutes when you really concentrate.

Or when you really love what you're doing.

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How to Schedule Your Day

Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come.

My thesis is so very close to being done, and it’s time to make the final charge so that I can stop writing about it and you can stop hearing about it.

My goal is to have my thesis finished and submitted by August 1.

To facilitate this plan, I’m conducting a bit of an experiment this week.

Because I work in the evenings, I tend to have a lot of free time during the day, and deciding how to allocate that time is often difficult. Sometimes I take so long to decide what to do that I don’t end up doing much of anything.

To combat this issue, I’m scheduling out each of my days the night before, à la Shawn Blanc.

For example, on Sunday night I planned out my Monday, which looked a little like this:

9:30 AM: Wake up. Check iPhone (Twitter, RSS, messages, etc.)
10:00 AM – 12:00 PM: Thesis. Fifty-minute blocks, ten-minute breaks. (Via BreakTime.)
12:00 – 1:00 PM: Workout. (Push-ups, goblet squats, overhead dumbbell presses, kettlebell swings, pull-ups, chin-ups. x2. Ten-minute run.)
1:00 – 1:30 PM: Shower, shave, dress.
1:30 – 3:00 PM: Prep and send QLE VIP Newsletter No. 1.
3:00 – 4:00 PM: Stop at Post Office. Drive to New Haven.
4:00 – 6:30 PM: Late lunch with Rich.
6:30 – 7:00 PM: Drive to Newington.
7:00 – 9:00 PM: Work.
9:15 PM: Home. Write. Rest.

It didn’t work out perfectly down to the minute, but having the day planned out was incredibly useful for knowing exactly what I should be doing right now.

One nice thing about scheduling your day is that you know exactly how long each thing is going to last. One of the barriers to working on my thesis, for example, is that it seems like such a huge task. But if I know I’m just going to work on it for two hours — and at noon, I’m done for the day — it’s much easier to concentrate and get a lot done during that time. Getting my least favorite thing out of the way first is a great feeling.

Fortunately, my dentist appointment today is scheduled for 9:40 AM.

I’m only working part-time while I finish my thesis, but this system can be applied to anyone’s work day. I recommend trying it out and seeing how it works for you.

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Two Observations About Food

Since I moved out of my parents’ house, I’ve been eating very healthy most of the time. Eating properly feels good, especially when you’re out on your own and responsible for your own well-being.

I’ve made a couple of observations about my dietary habits over the past month or so, and I thought I’d share them with you.

The first is that the easier it is to eat, the more likely I am to eat it.

When you’re hungry, your willpower is diminished, and so it’s easier to grab something you can eat immediately than it is to prepare something healthy. Of course, unhealthy foods — like cookies, chips, and other snacks — require the least preparation. When you’re really hungry, it’s hard to spend five or ten minutes making scrambled eggs when you could be eating a cookie in five seconds.

Because the easiest foods get eaten first, I’ve decided not to keep any in the house. Even reasonably healthy things, like apples. If I have eggs, salad, chicken, vegetables, and apples, the apples are the easiest to eat. Everything else requires preparation. When I’m feeling particularly hungry and/or lazy, I’m much more likely to just eat five apples instead of making something else. So, easy foods are out.

Which leads me to my second observation, which is the notion of gateway foods. Gateway foods can actually be pretty good for you, except for the fact that they lead to much more unhealthy foods. I’ll give you an example.

Over the weekend I stopped over my dad’s house to pick up some mail. I wasn’t in the door for more than a few minutes before I was indulging in a heaping bowl of fruit salad (already made, and thus an “easy” food). But fruit is good for you, so no big deal, right? That first bowl lead to two more bowls. And since I had already had so much fruit, I thought I might as well enjoy some nuts while I was there (another easy food). And what goes great with fruit and nuts? Cheese. Obviously.

Within an hour I had enjoyed much more fruit, nuts, and cheese than I had intended. So by the time my dad pulled out the dark chocolate covered popcorn, I figured, “might as well”. And then came the latest sickeningly sweet variation of Oreo.

Fruit, nuts, and even cheese aren’t inherently unhealthy foods, but because they’re so easy to consume and require virtually no preparation, it’s easy to overeat them. Once you’ve binged on that stuff, it’s harder to rationalize not having some chocolate, dessert, or whatever.

So there you have it. Be wary of easy foods. Be wary of gateway foods. The best way to eat healthy is to have no other choice.

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Rays

Greetings, QLE readers, and a happy Friday to you.

It’s been a dark week here on QLE, and I hope I didn’t scare any of you off with my morbidity. I had an emotional Sunday, and I ended up writing most of this week’s articles the following morning.

Writing is incredibly therapeutic, especially when you can’t say everything you want to say to the person you want to say it. In such cases, I find that the best thing to do is to write, and write, and write. Empty your mind. Get everything you’re dying to say out of your head and onto paper or your computer screen.

And remember to breathe.

It helps.

A lot.

Despite the fact that I want QLE to be an enjoyable and uplifting corner of the Internet, I opted to publish this week’s pieces because life offers just as many dark moments as light ones. It’s all part of the experience.

Inner peace means existing in a state of utter contentment — for a whole day, an hour, or even just a few moments. You have no wants, needs, worries, or fears. It’s very rare, but that’s what we’re here to practice and achieve.

Conversely, one could argue that any time we aren’t experiencing true inner peace, we are plagued with the desire for things to be other than the way they are. Sometimes it’s just a little twinge in the back of your head, sometimes it ruins your whole Sunday, and sometimes it makes your world collapse. In any case, I don’t wish to shy away from the really dark moments. We need to learn how to get through all of it, from a messy desk to the death of a loved one.

As always, I want to ensure that every article I post contains value for you as a reader. I don’t want to waste your time. With that in mind, I will always do my best in the aforementioned dark moments to offer some ray of light, some sense of possible resolution, for myself and for you. You will never see a post about how everything sucks and there is no hope — end of article — on this website. No matter how dark things get. Promise.

I appreciate you sticking with me this week, and I wish you the best in your pursuit of inner peace.

Have a positively radiant weekend,
Andrew

(P.S. Between you and me… awesome stuff coming up. Tell you more later. Shhh.)

Thanks for reading! Want more? Grab the free QLE Manifesto. Perhaps follow me on Twitter. Need something? Email me.

The Next Better Thing

What do you do when the love of your life decides they don’t want the job?

Like any loss, the first reaction is denial. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense. How can your heart be so sure of something, and then be wrong? How can your heart be wrong?

What makes someone the love of your life is that they defy expectations. They supersede all of your past relationships, and you can’t possibly envision someone better. You think, this is it. I don’t have to look anymore.

Unless they don’t agree.

And when that happens, we have no choice in the matter. All the confidence and love in the world is not enough to make someone feel something they don’t feel.

The pain and grief comes not only out of the loss of that person, but of the realization that now you’re back to zero. You thought you had a ten on your hands, and now you have nothing. And the despair comes from being unable to possibly imagine anything ever coming close to what you’ve lost.

But the thing is, something better will come.

You only know the love of your life so far. It’s easy to declare someone the best when you have no knowledge of who else is to come after. Sometimes, your heart is right, and there is no one else.

But when your heart is wrong, the only thing you can do is trust that the next best thing — the next better thing — is yet to come. Even if you can’t possibly imagine who they are, someone better is coming. Someone who defies your expectations in ways you’ve never even dreamed of.

It sounds impossible, but that’s because seeing is believing. It’s impossible to envision someone better until that someone arrives. But they are coming. We have to believe and be ready.

They’re on their way.

The Shawshank Question

Is hope a good thing?

It keeps you going through uncertain times, but that uncertainty can drive you insane.

So is it better to be hopeless? To know there is no chance, but to be certain about it?

I’m not sure, but having experienced both in close proximity to one another, I have to say that I miss having hope.

Hope is like a candle when you’re without electricity. Even when everything else is shrouded in darkness, there’s always that little flicker. The hope that some day, just maybe, things will brighten. Things will be OK. It comforts and consoles you.

And your imagination — being the absurdly powerful thing that it is — can take that little flicker and stoke it until it becomes a roaring fire filled with dreams and possibilities and a future that’s so good you can’t possibly envision anything else. How can something that good not come true?

I don’t know why, but it can.

Hopelessness means that the thing you were clinging to, protecting, nurturing, has vanished. There’s a void in your heart where it used to live. And it’s agonizing, especially if you’ve been holding onto it for a long time and have given it your complete confidence.

What makes hope insidious is that it can hinder you from achieving other things. If you’re busy holding on over here, you’ll miss what’s going on over there. And I know — you don’t want what’s over there. That’s natural as long as the hope for what’s over here exists.

Perhaps the realization of hope is inevitable. Eventually, it’s either going to come true or be crushed. Maybe it’s better to rip the bandage off quickly.

The only way to survive hope’s demise is to think of it in the context of freedom. Hope — like expectations — attaches you to an outcome. When that outcome doesn’t come true, your attachment to a thing is severed, and it hurts like hell.

But the pain will subside. Every passing moment brings you a little bit closer to being OK. Once the wounds heal, we are free to move forward. And as we move forward, we come closer to arriving at the next big thing. And — hopefully — the next big thing will be a sure thing.

An Irreparable Moment

I don’t regret very many things. I can hardly think of any off the top of my head.

I attribute this lack of regret to a conscious decision to think before I act, so as to avoid any regrettable actions entirely.

But sometimes I fuck up.

I only just learned the true significance of something I said almost a year ago. It was awful and insensitive and ignorant, and I can’t take it back. And so now I’m full of regret, reliving that moment over and over again, and finding new pain each time.

I don’t know if a single moment can cause the downfall of a relationship. You could argue that if it wasn’t that moment, it would have been some other moment. But it’s still hard not to wish for it back, to wonder what if it hadn’t happened, and to want to do it all over again.

Of course, the way I’d handle that moment now would be completely different. A way that wouldn’t cause so much irreversible damage. I’m powerless now to convince the person I hurt so deeply that my opinions have changed. It would only seem like an act of desperation.

I always tried to be the most supportive partner I could, and in one bad moment, I wasn’t, and it broke everything down. I can’t think of anything more regrettable.

It’s hard to know what to do with an irreparable moment. You can’t really do anything. All you can do is say, “I’m sorry”, and hope it’s enough. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Maybe it’s enough to move forward, but not enough to go back.

You can’t control what another person thinks. The only thing you can control is you. Once you’ve expressed your regret, you have to let it go and trust that it will be enough. Don’t be a prisoner of the past. Be confident in the fact that you know how you feel now. Whether anyone else chooses to accept that is up to them.

Even though my mistake contributed to the loss of my relationship, and even though that fact kills me, I’m better off having learned from the experience. Whoever comes next will get a better version of me, one that will never make the same mistake again.

How to Be Awesome

Someone I know referred to this site as “a blog about being awesome”.

I think that’s a reasonable statement, but with one important distinction:

This is not a blog about how you have to be like me to be awesome.

This is a blog about how you have to be you to be awesome.

Thanks for reading! Want more? Grab the free QLE Manifesto. Perhaps follow me on Twitter. Need something? Email me.

Favorite Apps: Dark Sky

People care a lot about weather apps. We know this.

I was using Fahrenheit for a long time before I decided that a dedicated weather app wasn’t worth the home screen real estate. Notification Center’s forecast widget gets the job done just fine.

Plus, I wondered how imperative it was for me to know the weather all the time? Has the forecast ever prevented me from doing what I was going to do anyway, barring a severe snowstorm? Here in New England, we have four distinct seasons, and people have survived for thousands of years without up-to-the-minute forecasts. Just saying.

I haven’t missed Fahrenheit all that much, and Notification Center provides plenty of information when I do need to know the temperature or the forecast.

However.

I’ve been using Dark Sky for several weeks, and it’s incredibly handy.

Dark Sky isn’t your typical weather app. Rather than offer the usual ten-day forecast, it uses GPS and radar to tell you whether or not it’s going to rain in your area. That’s it.

When you open the app, it’ll tell you if it’s raining right now and if it’s going to rain in the next hour. You can also swipe up to see if it’s going to rain in the next three hours, overnight, and the following morning and afternoon. There’s a radar map available too.

You might be asking yourself, as I did, how useful could this possibly be?

The answer, of course, surprises. Here’s why I find it so helpful.

It’s hot in the summertime, and I’m a man who will always roll the windows down instead of putting on the air conditioning in my car. I also compulsively lock my doors and rarely leave my windows open after I park. This is problematic in the summer because my car gets extremely hot with the windows up.

The proper solution is to outfit the vehicle’s windows with weather guards, which allow you to keep the windows cracked even during torrential downpours. I used these on my first car (a 1995 Buick LeSabre), and they work great, but I’ve yet to spend the money to outfit my current vehicle.

My car has a sunroof, and when it’s hot, I often think about leaving it open or cracked. But I fear that a freak summer thunderstorm will strike as soon as I’m away from my car and subsequently soak the interior.

Dark Sky to the rescue. Whenever I park and leave my car for any period of time, I check Dark Sky, which automatically detects my location and tells me if it’s going to rain in the immediate future. If not, I know I can leave my windows cracked safely, which is a boon when the temperature hits triple digits.

In my experience, Dark Sky is remarkably accurate. It rains when the app says it will rain, and it stops raining when the app says it will stop. Literally. Down to the minute. It’s the only dedicated weather app currently on my iPhone, and I recommend it. Try it out this weekend. It comes in handy far more often than you’d think.

For more, read Ben Brooks’ extensive review.

Buy Dark Sky as a universal app for $3.99 on the App Store.

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The What-Ifs

Often when I’m teaching my karate students a new technique, they’ll start coming up with lots of hypothetical situations.

“What if the guy is way bigger than you?!”

“What if he has a baseball bat?!”

“What if this happens?!”

“What if that happens?!”

I usually answer the first few before asking one of my own:

“What if he grows an extra set of arms?! Then you’ll really be in trouble.”

The thing about the what-ifs is that A) there are an infinite number of them, and B) we can only be so prepared for each. In martial arts, the idea is to be trained well enough to be able to adapt to any situation. Obviously training and rehearsing for every single scenario is impossible, so we teach concepts and techniques that — with diligent practice — will come out naturally, as needed. You can’t ask a bad guy to please punch again so that you can perform your technique of choice on him. You get what you get, and you don’t get upset.

After sixteen years of training, I’ve learned not to worry about the what-ifs. I have to trust that my body will react appropriately.

I have a much harder time, though, dealing with what-ifs that don’t involve hand-to-hand combat.

I was grocery shopping with my dad a couple of weeks ago, and I was updating him on some aspect of my life in which I needed his advice. I spoke for about twenty minutes straight, rapid-fire, analyzing this and that, far more animated and expressive than I am on a regular basis. He listened patiently, at times cracking up over my out-of-character enthusiasm.

And of course, most of my ranting arose out of a million what-ifs. If this, then that, but if that, then this, and if this, what about THAT, and so on.

It felt good to get all of that analysis out of my head, but when I was done, I was still right back where I was twenty minutes earlier. I had no new information. All I had was what I knew. Nothing more, nothing less.

We can drive ourselves crazy thinking about the what-ifs, but in reality, we can only be so prepared. Preparation is good, but worrying about an infinite number of things that haven’t happened can be exhausting.

We can’t work with what may or may not exist. We have to concentrate on what we know, and wrestle with the here and now. And when something unexpected comes up — when a what-if actually occurs — we have to trust that our hearts and minds will react accordingly.

Thanks for reading! Want more? Grab the free QLE Manifesto. Perhaps follow me on Twitter. Need something? Email me.

See the Bumblebees

The house where I live is right next to the local middle school, so the backyard is essentially two tremendous soccer fields. I’ve been taking advantage of the new environment with lots of barefoot sprints and pull-ups and chin-ups on the goal posts. It’s hot out there.

The fields are covered in thistles, which a great many honeybees take pleasure in. When you’re running as hard and as fast as you can with workout music raging in your headphones, it’s easy not to notice them.

But as I finished my workout the other day and collapsed to my knees in the grass, I spotted one buzzing nearby. My heart was pounding, and my legs were on fire, and there was seemingly no oxygen in the vicinity. But as I knelt there, gasping for air, I noticed this bumblebee, hopping from thistle to thistle. And as I watched him, I noticed another doing his own dance. And another, and another. And after a moment I could see all of the bumblebees dancing together in the grass under an infinite blue sky.

And so I noticed that sometimes, we need to stop running to notice things.

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Year of the Habit: July

Happy July to you fine folks. We’re halfway through 2012!

Let’s recap the year so far:

  • January: Started flossing every day.
  • February: Stopped biting my nails.
  • March: Attempted to read every day. Unsuccessful. Currently reading The $100 Startup.
  • April: Health nut month. Was Primal 80% of the days in April.
  • May: Tracked all of my expenses via Saver.
  • June: “No Wasted Days”. This was an abstract goal, and so it’s hard to quantify the results. Still, I consider it a success.

Here’s why:

  1. I moved out of my parents’ house, which has largely been a boon to my personal productivity. As I mentioned in that post, being out from under my parents’ protection has been instrumental in lighting the fire under my ass. I’m buying my own groceries. Cooking my own food. Doing my own laundry. It’s all very grownup like. The complacency of living at home is gone, and being on my own is much more conducive to getting things done.
  2. I’m in a band. Finally. About a month ago, I had a million dollar idea: “Wouldn’t it be great if there was a Facebook for musicians?!” I googled it, and of course, there is one. So I signed up and got a message about a week later for a local band looking for a bass player. Despite the fear of meeting up to audition with strangers, I learned the songs, met my fellow bandmates, and we hit it off. I’m thrilled to actually be in a band and playing music with people for the first time after ten years of playing bass. We’re rehearsing throughout the summer, and we plan to gig in the fall.
  3. I have a kick ass music podcast. Yes, this is sort of old news, but I’m really proud of it, and it’s still going strong. I’m not sure why you haven’t subscribed in iTunes yet.
  4. My advisor has declared my thesis “just about done”, which is huge. Stand by for more on that soon.
  5. I created the QLE VIP Mailing List and 25 Things: The Quarter-Life Enlightenment Manifesto. This is the first step in kicking QLE into high gear and making it better than ever. I’m sure you know this, but QLE VIPs are the people who care about the site the most and want to be the first to know about the latest cool stuff going on here. If you sign up (it’s free), you’ll get 25 Things as a thank-you present. And I’ll love you forever.
  6. I’ve begun collaborating with some brilliant folks on the Internet, which I’m both incredibly humbled by and excited about. Since beginning QLE last year, one of my main focuses has been to develop relationships with people and be somebody people wouldn’t mind doing something with. I can’t say much about what’s going on behind the scenes yet, but stay tuned.

When I look at the big picture and ask myself, “I’m 25. What am I doing with my life right now?” My answer is: I’m teaching karate, which I love; I’m playing music, which I love; I’m writing, which I love; I’m podcasting, which I love; and I’m doing it all out there on my own. I’m not saying I’m a paragon of success — far from it, and there’s still a long way to go — but it’s hard not to be content with and grateful for who I am right now. I’m still reaching for things, of course, and there are still things I want to achieve and things I wish I had… But those will come sooner or later, as long as I don’t give up. You can’t fail if you don’t give up.

So. Anyway.

In the interest of continuing to move forward and be awesome, July is going to be another abstract sort of habit.

I call it “Looking Outward”.

Sometimes, the solution lies within us and can only be accessed by creating an oasis of quiet. I’ve been trying to do this a lot lately.

However, I think that just as often, the solution lies outside of ourselves… but we’re often to busy looking inward to notice.

One of the things I tell my junior karate instructors is that you have to look outward if you’re going to be a good teacher. When you’re first starting out, you’re usually worrying about yourself: Am I saying the right things? Do I look stupid? Are the kids bored? Did I mess up?

You’re so busy worrying about YOU that you don’t even notice how the class is doing, which makes it very difficult to teach well. You have to stop blindly focusing on what you’re doing and look outward, at the students. When you do that, you’ll notice who needs help, and that will tell you what you need to teach. The lesson will unfold naturally from there.

I’m going to try to be a better observer this month. I’ll let you know what I see.

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Review: Rush's Clockwork Angels

To fully understand the significance of Rush’s new record, Clockwork Angels, one must look at it in the context of the band’s entire discography.

Their twentieth studio album, Clockwork Angels is a monstrous musical achievement, replete with the imagery, thematic elements, and technical virtuosity fans have come to expect from the holy triumvirate. But beyond all that, what makes the album truly satisfying is the knowledge that Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, and Neil Peart can not only still tolerate each other after almost forty years together, but also put out some of the best music of their career.

Rush is defined by — among other things — different periods and changes in musical direction. They began with the blues-based, Zeppelin-inspired rock of their 1974 self-titled debut before transitioning into their epic progressive era, which reached a peak with 2112 in 1976. The albums that followed — A Farewell to Kings and Hemispheres — featured even more epic tracks, unparalleled musicianship, and fantastic elements.

The weight of Hemispheres, with its eighteen-minute opening suite and nine-and-a-half minute instrumental, “La Villa Strangiato”, caused Rush to immediately switch direction with 1980’s Permanent Waves and the seminal Moving Pictures in 1981. These records saw more accessible, radio-friendly songs, although they featured no less instrumental process and contain some of the band’s most well-known pieces.

As the 80s wore on, the band’s synthetic side came to the forefront with increasingly keyboard-driven songs and less prominent guitar work. This stylistic direction would last through 1987’s Hold Your Fire. Fans of Rush’s heavier side were finally placated with 1993’s Counterparts, an aggressive alternative rock record, and 1996’s Test for Echo, the last album to be released before the tragic loss of Neil Peart’s daughter and wife within a year’s time.

After a lengthy and painful hiatus, 2002’s Vapor Trails saw the band’s triumphant return, and it was followed with Snakes & Arrows in 2007.

Snakes & Arrows is a solid modern rock record, and although it’s laden with faith-based lyrics and imagery, the songwriting and musicianship remain quite strong.

Five years later, we arrive at Clockwork Angels.

In the Rush chronology, of which I have just given you a brief synopsis, there are several landmark records. 2112 and Moving Pictures in particular are often cited as the “must-listen” Rush albums, and I agree. These records are unquestionably regarded as some of the band’s best work. Where the other albums rank is mostly a matter of personal preference. Personally, I prefer the progressive era of the mid to late seventies, particularly Hemispheres.

With so many records and so much achieved, it’s hard to imagine the band topping itself after so long.

And yet, Clockwork Angels is a landmark in the band’s career.

Notably, it’s a concept album, complete with an upcoming novelization by Kevin J. Anderson:

In a young man’s quest to follow his dreams, he is caught between the grandiose forces of order and chaos. He travels across a lavish and colorful world of steampunk and alchemy, with lost cities, pirates, anarchists, exotic carnivals, and a rigid Watchmaker who imposes precision on every aspect of daily life.

That’s the album in a nutshell. For all of Clockwork Angels’ variety — straight ahead rock, sweeping multilayered pieces, crunchy grooves, and (by Rush standards) quiet moments of reflection — it remains one of the band’s most cohesive records. There is no need to skip any of the eleven tracks here. Each is a memorable entry in the band’s catalog, and together they create a powerful body of music that stands up to even their most lauded records.

The album opens with the thunderous “Caravan”, heralding the band’s return with a stomping groove and tales of “a world lit only by fire”. The song features one of Geddy’s all-time best bass solos before continuing its onslaught.

“Caravan” segues into “BU2B”, which now features a wistful acoustic opening. It quickly explodes into one of the band’s heaviest tracks, however, giving “Stick It Out” a run for its money. Both “Caravan” and “BU2B” were released as radio singles in 2010 prior to the Time Machine Tour, but they take on new meaning here in the context of Clockwork Angels, and they’re stronger for it.

The seven-and-a-half minute title track follows, opening with quiet, wailing vocals before creating a foundation of droning guitar, driving cymbals, and churning bass. The track swells for a full minute before blossoming into its first verse. Despite the holy quality of the song’s title, “Clockwork Angels” doesn’t lack anything in the power department. But rather than achieve its greatness through sheer aggression, it opts to soar “synchronized and graceful” into our ears. One can’t help but imagine the titular angels in flight above some grand gothic cathedral. The song is multilayered and sweeping, and it’s absolutely worthy of carrying the album’s namesake.

The familiarity of the first two tracks and the beauty of “Clockwork Angels” makes the album easy to get into on a first listen. But with the fourth track, “The Anarchist”, we find ourselves in true uncharted territory. Admittedly, the middle of the album was the most challenging for me to digest. That’s not to say it’s weaker than its bookends. Rather, it requires the most time to get to know.

“The Anarchist” is a guitar-driven track with a slight Middle Eastern flair. It’s also full of bass and drum fills that will make any Rush fan smile. The song alternates between dark and uplifting tones and contains a subtle hook while maintaining the high level of musicianship and powerful imagery set by the first three tracks.

“Carnies” is a strong companion piece to “The Anarchist” in that it also features heavy guitar and moves between a speeding chorus and slower, churning verses. The album’s steampunk themes continue here, with “the smell of flint and steel”. Neil’s drumming is particularly driving, and the track stops on a dime, emphasizing the trio’s ability to work as one.

We’re granted a respite with “Halo Effect”, a song about “a goddess with wings on her heels”. It’s one of the album’s quietest tracks, although Rush fans know that the band’s definition of “quiet” is far from the norm. It’s also the shortest full track on the album and features a beautiful bridge section. After the frenetic rage of “The Anarchist” and “Carnies”, “Halo Effect” provides a wonderful oasis of strings and elegance.

Lucky #7, “Seven Cities of Gold” will immediately have Rush fans grinning from ear to ear as it opens with some of Geddy Lee’s greatest bass work to date. The song’s title belies its personality; this is Rush at its funkiest. But unlike “Roll the Bones”, you’ll find no hip-hop influences here. Rather, we are reminded that for all their technical virtuosity, Rush is still capable of writing a great hook that’s anything but simple. The driving backbeat and crunchy groove will have listeners bobbing their heads for all six-and-a-half minutes.

Supposedly, Alex and Geddy switched instruments while writing “The Wreckers”, but the result is anything but a gimmick. It’s a medium-tempo tune with one of the best choruses in the band’s catalog. Perhaps no other song on the album encourages a singalong as when Geddy cries, “All I know is that sometimes you have to be wary / Of a miracle too good to be true”. There’s also a gorgeous, chilling bridge, as the story of a ship being lured to its doom unfolds, “washed away in the pounding waves”.

The 7:21 monster, “Headlong Flight” was released to radio stations earlier this year, accompanied by a lyric music video. Despite being a single, this one is sure to please diehard Rush fans, as the music recalls “Bastille Day” with its bass and drum fills and high-flying chorus. The song takes no prisoners, and the instrumentation is relentless from start to finish. As its name implies, “Headlong Flight” is a high point in an album of consistently great performances.

“BU2B2” is a brief, ominous, string-driven piece, detailing the failure of belief. For all its sobriety, though, there remains a ray of light: “Life goes from bad to worse / I still choose to live”.

It’s a dark cloud that fades with the opening notes of “Wish Them Well”, probably the most accessible track with its memorable chorus and vocal hooks. It may be the most overt song on the record, but it’s also the “happiest” sounding. After all, “It’s not worth singing that same sad song… All that you can do is wish them well”.

It’s hard to imagine how such a grand album could or should end, but Rush pulls it off with “The Garden”, a song unlike anything else in their catalog. It opens with gorgeous strings and beautiful arpeggiated bass work before Alex’s acoustic guitar takes over for the verse. The chorus is powerful and will inspire more than a few goosebumps over “a garden to nurture and protect”. The album’s final minutes feature a wonderfully grandiose guitar solo before the vocals and strings carry us off beyond the horizon. One always wonders whether it’s better to end an album with a bang or with a moment of thoughtful reflection. Perhaps uncharacteristically, Rush chooses the latter, and it’s the perfect conclusion to a concept album that promises to and succeeds at taking us on a far-reaching musical journey.

Clockwork Angels’ cover art features swirling red clouds and a clock displaying the time 9:12, i.e. “21:12”. It’s a fitting homage to the band’s first towering achievement, and yet Clockwork Angels features very little in the way of nostalgia. Rather, it’s incredibly forward-looking. The Rush of 2012 is clearly at the peak of their powers, and amazingly, they are still capable of producing work on-par with their most timeless albums. It’s comforting and inspiring to see three men who’ve been together for almost forty years put out something of this caliber.

Clockwork Angels is a brilliant addition to the band’s discography, and it’s more than worthy of being their twentieth record. As a Rush fan, I couldn’t be happier with it.

Five Years Stronger

Sometimes we’ll say something like, “I wish I met you five years from now.”

Perhaps that would have been more convenient, but on the other hand, you wouldn’t be the same person you are now if you met that person in five years.

You are who you are today in part because you met that person when you did. If you hadn’t met them, you wouldn’t have learned from them. Perhaps you wouldn’t have experienced the pain it caused, but you wouldn’t have experienced the joy either.

A person comes into your life whenever the universe sees fit. Maybe they’ll walk alongside you for a day, or a month, or a year. Maybe they’ll walk away for a while. Maybe they’ll come back. Maybe they won’t.

But if they do, you’ll have your history together, whatever it is. And that may make you five years closer to one another.

Five years stronger.

If I met you in five years, things might work out differently…

But we’d miss out on five years of knowing each other.

[Thanks to my sister for pointing this out to me.]

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Solving a Music Workflow Problem

In the spirit of this week’s episode of Crush On Radio, wherein we discuss how we listen to music, I thought I’d write up some additional thoughts, as well as detail a new component to my musical workflow.

I keep all of my music on an external hard drive. I have 13,791 songs in my iTunes library (up from 12,170 after the great iTunes purge). This amounts to 125.85 GB of music, which I don’t want weighing down my three-year-old 15” MacBook Pro.

The downside to this setup is that I have to have my external hard drive plugged into my Mac if I want to listen to my iTunes library. Normally this isn’t a big deal because my MacBook Pro is my only computer, and it’s usually relegated to my desk anyway. I have a TwelveSouth BassJump 2 Subwoofer (which I adore), so my music sounds great when I’m working at my desk/in my room.

However, inconvenience arises when I take my MacBook Pro away from my desk. I can’t cart the BassJump around with me, so I’m left with comparatively wimpy laptop speakers. I could — and usually do — use headphones in these instances to improve sound quality, but that still doesn’t solve the problem of my iTunes library being back at my desk on my external hard drive.

Take this scenario, for example. The other night I decided I wanted to do some writing on the living room couch instead of at my desk. This is awesome because the couch is right in front of the TV, which has been newly outfitted with my dad’s gorgeous Mirage speaker towers. An ideal listening experience.

BUT. My music is still upstairs on my external hard drive.

Blast.

Previously, I’d been getting around this issue by streaming music from my iOS devices to our Apple TV, which is a decent, but less than convenient, solution. My entire library is in iCloud via iTunes Match, which is great, but it means I have to download music to my iOS device before I can listen. That means I have to go to Settings, switch on Show All Music, and navigate my entire library via my iPhone or iPad. Given the size of my library, it’s not the smoothest or fastest setup.

So, I need my iTunes library on my Mac without actually having my iTunes library on my Mac.

Conundrum.

Services like Rdio and Spotify aim to solve this problem by offering streaming music subscriptions. I never gave them much thought because I like having ownership over my library, and I didn’t like the idea of paying a monthly fee for my music.

But, as I sat on the couch with my MacBook Pro on my lap, periodically tapping around on my iPad to stream music to the Apple TV, I knew there had to be a better way. If I’m working on my Mac, controlling my music via a second device is cumbersome. I don’t want to have to take my fingers off the keyboard.

I remembered Shawn Blanc being a big Rdio fan, so I search his site for articles about the app and found this great tip. Shawn uses Rdio in conjunction with Rogue Amoeba’s Airfoil to stream music to his Apple TV.

It sounded like the perfect solution, so I signed up for the $5/month Rdio subscription and downloaded the desktop app. I also bought an Airfoil license from Rogue Amoeba for $25.

This setup works flawlessly.

Rdio’s selection is very good, and the desktop app is well done. You can even match your iTunes library with Rdio’s to build up your music collection, which I wasn’t aware of. (Note: Rdio was able to match only about half of my library, but still more than enough for my needs.) Suddenly, I had access to a good chunk of my music — plus much more — on my Mac without having to overburden my hard drive or be connected to my external. Excellent.

Rdio can’t stream directly to Apple TV via Airplay like iTunes can, so that’s where Airfoil comes in. Airfoil is a simple utility that lets you send music from your Mac to a wide variety of devices. It works great.

I don’t know if I’ll move to Rdio full-time in the future. It doesn’t have every song I have in my iTunes, although I’m sure they’re expanding their selection every day.

Right now, I’m happy to pay the $5 a month to have this flexibility in my music workflow. If you keep your music on an external drive, but wish you could access it from your Mac without fiddling with iOS devices, I highly recommend Rdio + Airfoil. Special thanks to Shawn Blanc for bringing this solution to my attention.

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Back to OmniFocus

I’ve been using Dropkick as my task management app for quite a while. Although, as I mentioned in my review, it’s not really a task manager at all. It’s just a way to create utilitarian lists and sync them across your devices. Dropkick isn’t the prettiest or most feature-filled app, but it’s good at what it does.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is OmniFocus: the behemoth of GTD/task management apps.

I’ve mentioned my distaste for OmniFocus several times. I bought the iPhone and iPad apps a while ago and used them for some time, but ultimately, the app’s cold personality and steep learning curve caused me to pursue other options. I was also in no mood to shell out $80 for the Mac version.

And yet, here I stand to tell you that I’ve decided to give OmniFocus another go.

Why?

Amidst the excitement of WWDC, the Omni Group graciously put OmniFocus for Mac on sale at half price (still is!). I decided to pull the trigger. I now own the entire OmniFocus suite, and I hope that the addition of the Mac app will help me put OmniFocus to better use. Quick input for ubiquitous capture on the iOS devices is OK, but it can’t hold a candle to the Mac version’s quick input keyboard shortcut. In addition, Launch Center Pro’s OmniFocus input is quite fast, particularly with this tip by Robert Agcaoili.

I was waiting for Things to support cloud syncing, but it seems development is destined to remain slow and unreliable. My esteemed Crush On Radio cohost, Richard J. Anderson, has abandoned Things after being a dedicated user for sometime. It’s sad, but I still hope to be able to give Things a try in the future.

There’s no doubt that OmniFocus is an amazing and powerful piece of software. I have much to learn about it, but I’m willing to give it an honest effort. I want to like OmniFocus. I really do. Mac Power Users just put out the third installment of their Workflows with Merlin Mann saga, and Merlin offers a lot of good tips that I’m hoping to implement.

So there you have it. Back to OmniFocus. I’ll let you know how it goes.

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The Best Version of Yourself

Despite the awesomeness that is Jerry Maguire, Colin Wright takes issue with the phrase, “You complete me.”:

Even though it’s generally uttered in a complimentary context, the implication is that the person saying it to you was not whole before you came along. […]

In my mind, one should never be incomplete, if one can avoid it. One should be whole by oneself. One should be 1.

And that means, that when two complete people — two people who would be living wonderful lives without each other — are together, the math stays integered and wonderful, but also magically increases in value. Your 1 and their 1 doesn’t equal 2. You end up with 3. Or 7. Or 229.

Why does it work this way? Because if you have a good relationship with someone else — any kind of relationship — you both become better versions of yourselves for having that other person in your life. We’re all 1′s, if we’re self-aware and live our lives to the fullest. If I find someone who adds to my life, who causes me to be a better version of myself, I might become a 4.

I had lunch with my friend Rich today, and after we parted ways, I found myself thinking that he tends to bring out a better version of myself. I don’t know why. Something about our friendship inspires confidence and camaraderie. Invincibility.

I consider myself a fairly self-aware person, and I believe — as I think Colin does — that one shouldn’t rely on anything or anyone for happiness.

After all, my favorite quote is:

You must love yourself before you can love another. By accepting yourself and fully being what you are, your simple presence can make others happy.

I believe this issue has two components.

The first is to know oneself.

The second is to surround oneself with individuals who are equally self-aware, and who are thus capable of augmenting that version of yourself to a degree that surpasses anything we might achieve on our own.

There are no concrete steps on the path to knowing oneself. I do know that it requires deep introspection and a lot of time and patience. At least it did for me.

To take up Colin’s numerical analogy, 1 might be the highest level of completion an individual can attain without anyone else’s help. And it can be very difficult to become a 1.

Some — perhaps most — people float through life without ever examining themselves, without ever questioning, “Who am I?” “What am I doing here?” “Why am I this way?” I’m sure ignorance is bliss in their case.

But as Socrates said:

The unexamined life is not worth living.

As we become more self-aware, we present a more complete version of ourselves to others. Present-day Andrew is more complete than the Andrew from two years ago, who was more complete than college Andrew, who was on his way to becoming much more complete than high school Andrew. And tomorrow Andrew will be more complete than today Andrew.

I know more today than I did yesterday.

Provided that we never stop searching for a complete sense of self, every moment that passes brings us a tiny bit closer to realizing who we are.

With that self-awareness comes the ability to offer the most confident and loving version of yourself to others.

This is me, today.

And while it’s nice to imagine two incomplete people becoming complete together, perhaps we are better suited to doing so on our own.

But if I can find someone equally self-aware, and our two fully-realized selves meet and complement each other, I believe a bond can be formed that transcends everyday friendship.

Since today I am the most self-aware I have ever been (until tomorrow, anyway), I want to surround myself with people who can take my 1 and multiply it. I may be a 1 on my own, but a particular friendship or relationship may turn me into a 5 or a 10.

I want to surround myself with people who inspire me to be better. To do things I otherwise would never dream of. To make me unafraid. That’s the barometer by which I gauge my relationships.

Does this person make me a better version of myself?

Most people won’t, and they can be let go. Eliminate the unnecessary.

But once in a while, someone comes along who makes you better.

Meeting these people is rare. So when I encounter one, I cherish that relationship. I sometimes wish I had more of them, but it’s that scarcity that makes them so precious.

This is a meandering and largely nonsensical post. But being out on your own comes with a lot of alone time, and it makes you realize how valuable certain people are in your life. And it makes you realize who you want to keep around.

Become who you really are. Which is amazing.

Then find those who make who you are even better.

And take over the world together.

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Start with One

Finding the motivation to workout can be hard, especially when it's 97° outside.

It would be so much easier to just take the day off. You can hit it twice as hard tomorrow. Or the day after. Or maybe on Monday.

Making excuses is easy. Overcoming them isn't.

One strategy I've been playing with lately is to just do a little bit. Maybe just do ten push-ups. Or one pull-up. Maybe just put your workout clothes on and go stand outside.

Usually, doing a little bit motivates me to do more. I think, "Well, I'm not going to do just ten push-ups. That's ridiculous." So I'll do some more. And then some more. And before long, my arms are hurting. Boom. Mission accomplished.

It doesn't always work. Sometimes I'll drop and do 25 and think, "Nooooope. Not right now." And that's OK. Sometimes you're just not in the mood.

But usually all it takes is a little bit to get started and build momentum. Get the endorphins flowing.

Instead of thinking of your workout as some massive excruciating endeavor, just do a little. And if that feels good, do a little more.

Sometimes you're not in the mood to do a hundred push-ups. That doesn't sound like fun at all. But one? You can do one. And while you're down there, why not make it ten? Or fifteen or twenty? And since you're warmed up now, why not fifty?

You don't always have to start big. You can start small.

As long as you start.

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