How to Focus on One Thing

One of the main challenges many of us face in this hyper-distracting world is the ability to focus.

Any pursuit of mastery requires some degree of focus. Real mastery demands an exceptionally high level of it. We are what we give our attention to. If we fail to do so, we are at the mercy of external forces, and mastery will elude us.

Focusing on mastery is a lifelong journey. But distraction is also a persistent, lifelong challenge. Steven Pressfield famously described this as the evil thing called “resistance" in his book The War of Art.

A 1987 Esquire article on mastery, which has recentlygained renewed interest thanks to Jerry Seinfeld’s reflections on his pursuit of it, contains a particularly insightful passage (hat tip SatPost by Trung Phan):

The modern world can be viewed as a prodigious conspiracy against mastery. We are bombarded with promises of fast, temporary relief, immediate gratification, and instant success, all of which lead in exactly the wrong direction.

Life’s incentives often favour speed. But I believe this is a false motivator—an easy trap to fall into, especially since society actively rewards it. While this hustle may be beneficial in certain seasons of life, and even suited in certain seasons of life, it is unsustainable in the long run and can ultimately be detrimental.

True joy lies in slowing down, trusting yourself, and even embracing boredom.

Monotasking is an incredible source of satisfaction. In fact, it is a luxury. If you can mono-task, you are already winning. This ability comes when you resist the urge to maximize short-term output and short-term rewards.

But how does one disconnect from distractions and push back against the "prodigious conspiracy against mastery" imposed by the modern world?

Here are some personal observations that have contributed to my success in professional, personal, and intellectual pursuits:

Ways to Reduce Distractions

• Establish a schedule — even if you don’t always stick to it.
• Set specific intentions for time blocks — separate planning from doing; frequent task-switching creates overwhelm.
• Track your progress visibly — streaks create momentum and reinforce habits.
• Identify and manage distraction triggers — know the who, what, where, and emotional/social context that lead to distractions.
• Select analogue over digital whenever possible — mindfulness increases when distractions decrease; savour experiences instead of getting lost in digital rabbit holes.

Cultivating deep engagement:

• Love the process—attach joy to intention, not just outcomes:
• Celebrate the process, not just the result.
• Observe and compliment others who embody this mindset to create a reinforcing feedback loop.
• Be comfortable with plateaus—progress isn’t always visible, but sticking with it prevents frustration.
• Approach tasks as if they’re new — curiosity enhances focus. Haruki Murakami finished writing his first novel because he seized the moment of inspiration that struck him while watching a baseball game. He didn’t overthink the logistics of publishing or the long road ahead—he simply acted on the creative impulse in front of him. Similarly, Seth Godin advises:

If you’re feeling creative, do the errands tomorrow. If you’re fit and healthy, take a day to go surfing. When inspiration strikes, write it down. The calendar belongs to everyone else. Their schedule isn’t your schedule unless it helps you get where you’re going.

• Avoid rigidity—choose flexibility—perfectionism can be a distraction; complexity should exist at the right scale.
• Incorporate playfulness—play reduces mental resistance, making focus easier (e.g., Richard Latham’s idea of "clowning around" to learn writing).

Ambiguity, and how to deal with it

Imagine you are a professional working in a corporate environment, managing multiple stakeholders and projects. One of the most critical challenges you'll face is dealing with ambiguity. Ambiguity is a fundamental experience for professionals operating in a VUCA world—an environment characterized by Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Ambiguity.

The challenge of ambiguity in knowledge work

Ambiguity is particularly challenging for those engaged in knowledge work. Most modern knowledge work involves overlapping domains—technology, humanities, commerce, to name a few. While individuals can build expertise in specific fields, success often favours those who develop an intersection of skills across multiple domains. Even deep experts must collaborate effectively with others who possess different skill sets and expertise, or they risk struggling to achieve their goals.

This overlap inherently breeds ambiguity. Each domain has its own "language," and people from one domain often find it challenging to understand those from another. This dissonance arises partly from the differing objectives of each domain but largely from poor communication—whether over-communication or under-communication.

Mastering the ability to navigate and feel comfortable with ambiguity is essential for success in the modern professional landscape. It is a non-negotiable skill, requiring effort on two fronts:

• Mindset: Cultivating a growth mindset is crucial for thriving in ambiguity. Without it, professionals can quickly feel overwhelmed and unable to progress.
• Practical Actions: Translating this mindset into everyday practices helps bring clarity and momentum.

Over a meal with a friend who now works at a prestigious consulting firm, we discussed this topic. She is an analyst supporting commercial consulting teams, managing multiple projects with diverse stakeholders. Often, she must deliver value-driven outcomes without the luxury of fully understanding the domain. Her situation epitomizes ambiguity: unclear requirements, limited resources, tight timelines, undefined ownership, and non-existent processes.

How does one handle such ambiguity? Based on over 20 years of professional experience, here are a few strategies that have worked for me.

1. Frontload, Frontload, Frontload

To manage ambiguity successfully, begin before you're ready.

The concept of "frontloading your project" is well-articulated in The McKinsey Edge by Shu Hattori, though I've applied it since my early career. Frontloading means driving maximum effort during the initial phase of a project—precisely when ambiguity is at its peak. This proactive approach lays the foundation and reduces uncertainty.

Here’s what frontloading looks like in practice:

• Over-index resources early: Commit significant effort in the first week or day of the project.
• Adopt a bias for action: Engage stakeholders, list key questions, define potential outputs, and anticipate challenges.
• Build relationships: Meet with team members early to understand their perspectives and ideas.
• Plan ahead: Schedule meetings and establish timelines, even with incomplete information.

Frontloading combats analysis paralysis by prioritizing action. It fosters teamwork, incremental solutions, and momentum, which can influence others positively. By demonstrating progress, you can elicit valuable input from senior stakeholders, reduce ambiguity, and establish control over expectations.

2. Reframe the focus from outcomes to process

Ambiguity becomes more daunting when the focus is solely on outcomes. Instead, shift your attention to processes and the next actionable step.

If a clear process doesn't exist, create one. Focus on executing the next task in the sequence. This approach simplifies complexity and reduces the perception of ambiguity. Dale Carnegie famously advised living in “day-tight compartments”—focusing on today and the immediate task rather than worrying about the entire journey.

I call this approach Process Quest. (You can read more about it here.)

3. Document and follow Up

Always document discussions, ideas, and thoughts. Never rely solely on memory.

Overconfidence in our memory is a common trap, especially in ambiguous situations with many moving parts. Documenting ensures clarity, prevents conflated ideas, and helps track progress. Reviewing notes often reveals insights that may not have been apparent earlier.

Follow-up is equally crucial. Shu Hattori emphasizes that follow-up is a low-profile yet vital activity. By revisiting discussions, identifying root causes, and demonstrating sustained interest, you can effectively reduce ambiguity and uncover actionable insights.

Systems as an antidote to ambiguity

The three practical strategies above—frontloading, process orientation, and documentation—underscore the importance of systems in mitigating ambiguity. Combined with an open and growth-oriented mindset, these systems enhance resilience and clarity in uncertain environments.

A word of caution

These strategies should not be pursued obsessively or frantically. Instead, approach them with presence and intentionality. Adopt a SLOW approach as an antidote to urgency and haste. (You can explore the concept of SLOW here.)

BOOK NOTE - Steve Jobs - Walter Isaacson

I truly enjoyed reading Walter Isaacson's biography of Steve Jobs. Jobs needs no introduction, and Isaacson is among the best biographers, but I had not managed to read this book since its publication in 2011. Incidentally, my father, who is an avid reader, had purchased it in December 2011, and it was sitting in my parents' home in Bangalore. I was rummaging through the books during my recent visit, and this tome caught my attention.

I have been a fan of so many things Jobs did, his personality, and the iconic impact he has had on the world. I have loved using the iPad, but for many reasons, I had not bought into the cult of Apple. I do not like the closed-loop system of Apple devices, for instance, and I had only heard about the sort of mercurial person Jobs was. I had seen the not-so-great movie about Jobs starring Ashton Kutcher. I had consumed the many videos of Jobs talking about marketing and product design on the internet. I had watched, many times, the iPhone launch event in 2007. And of course, I had heard and read about the many things said about Jobs by the people who worked with him.

More recently, I had read Sir Johnny Ive's article remembering Jobs on his 10th death anniversary in 2021. Jobs and Ive's obsession with design was something I loved and thought highly of.

Ive writes beautifully about Steve's curiosity and the insight he brought to any situation:

"...but now, above all else, I miss his singular and beautiful clarity. Beyond his ideas and vision, I miss his insight that brought order to chaos.
It has nothing to do with his legendary ability to communicate but everything to do with his obsession with simplicity, truth, and purity."

What Ive said about Jobs' curious mind was what had primed me to pick up this book and read it straight in six days. I was wondering, as I read, what it was that made it possible for Steve to have this insight and curiosity. One was certainly his unique genius, but Isaacson offers another note from the Zeitgeist:

"The 60s created an anarchic mindset that helped imagine a world that did not yet exist."

Walter Isaacson does a great job of telling us the story of Steve Jobs—his professional and personal journey—and what you realize is that, for Steve, there was no barrier between the two. The two were the same. He lived one life and brought his intense personality to every facet of his life.

I will mention briefly below a few points that resonated with me from this masterful biography.

Reality Distortion Field

Much has been said in the book and outside about Jobs' famous reality distortion field.

How he could get people—and himself—to get things done despite seemingly insurmountable odds.
Believing and obsessing about getting something done is an important skillset, and Jobs seemed to have it inbuilt in him. Manifesting on steroids. One version of this reality distortion field is about how someone is perceived. Nolan Bushnell, the CEO of Atari, tells a young Steve Jobs that

"Pretend to be in complete control, and people will assume you are," and Steve does this most of his life.

It is different from "fake it till you make it," but in the same vein. Different because this is not about faking it at all.

The reality distortion field is all about really believing that something is real, despite all evidence against it, and willing it into reality.

Teacher Arrives When the Student Is Ready and Willing

I have often found that one is only able to appreciate something when one is ready for it.

It might be learning about something or just even appreciating a piece of art—there is a certain openness needed for the mind to form connections and reveal insight. Early in Steve's life, when he is in search of a Japanese Zen master and is thinking about traveling to Japan to visit one, he finds a spiritual master right down the road. His spiritual advisor urges him to stay, and Steve says,

"He said there is nothing over there that isn’t here, and he was right. I learned the truth of the Zen saying that if you are willing to travel around the world to meet a teacher, one will appear next door."

Often, we underestimate the power of what we already know in helping us become better.

Intersection of Technology and Humanities

We often read about the industrial revolution and technological revolution and assume it is about growth in those domains.

But what this book illustrates is it is actually the intersection of those domains with the humanities and arts that really creates progress. Jobs' unique insight that made Apple, Pixar, and NeXT—all of his creations—such amazing innovators is that they put technology in service of art and not the other way around. The growth in domains happens naturally, but it is when tech advancements are put in service of art that true progress happens. Many technology leaders, like Xerox and others, had the technology, but it needed Jobs to obsess about the graphical user interface and make it about an elegant user experience that made the progress in the field possible. Jobs' reality distortion field made that possible.

Form may follow function for the masses, but for real progress to happen, function and form need to be equally important and elevated into an art form.

I highly recommend this book because it puts you in a reality distortion field.

By describing Jobs and his characteristics and without really offering any judgment on it, Isaacson masterfully invites us into believing.

Finally, on a personal note, something which amused me because it resonated with me but was also a cautionary note: Jobs was a strict vegan for most of his life, as I am as well. What I also found revealed in his mindset, which I also very strongly share, is the concept of pleasure from restraint. Lisa, his estranged daughter, observes the following about his strict diets and fasting: "Even at a young age Lisa began to realize his diet obsessions reflected a life philosophy, one in which asceticism and minimalism could heighten subsequent sensations.”

“He believed that great harvests came from arid sources, pleasure from restraint,’ she noted. ‘He knew the equations that most people didn’t know: Things led to their opposites.”

The cautionary note in this is that despite these healthy practices, it was probably his intense obsessions that led to his health challenges.

Steve Jobs' worldview was the opposite of moderation, but sometimes, while intensity blazes bright and illuminates the path for others, it can burn out fast as well. The genius of Jobs is that he might have passed away early, but what he managed to create in the short time was so bright that it is illuminating worlds long after he has gone.

BOOK NOTE - How to Write a Mystery: A Handbook from Mystery Writers of America, edited by Lee Child with Laurie R. King

Mysteries, whether in novel form or on TV, are one of the best things in the world. A good mystery novel can transport me away from this world and provides one of the best escapes from the mundane every day. One of my first attempts at writing something as a pre-teen was a detective mystery, inspired by the many Enid Blyton adventures like The Secret Seven and The Famous Five, as well as series like The Three Investigators, presented by Alfred Hitchcock, which I spent most of my time reading.

The art of writing a mystery has fascinated me, and while I haven't yet managed to publish one, I have a few drafts and outlines lying around. How to Write a Mystery: A Handbook from Mystery Writers of America, edited by Lee Child with Laurie R. King, is a great resource for aspiring mystery writers and for those who simply want to read about how great mystery writers like Lee Child, Jeffrey Deaver, and Dale Berry approach their craft. The book offers excellent context on what it takes to build a good mystery, tips for writing across different genres of mysteries, and interesting observations from some of the best in the field.

Some of the real gems from the book that have stuck with me are the following:

1. About storytelling - Meg Gardiner, in the article Keep it Thrilling, says about storytelling: “The theater of the mind is more powerful than a bucket of blood.” Often, when we write, we try to describe everything. But storytelling can achieve even more if we let the reader's mind fill in the gaps and spark their imagination.
2. On writing children's mysteries - Chris Grabenstein notes that there is a new group of 5th graders every year, ensuring that the genre has a long shelf life.
3. On authenticity - One of the constant challenges I face is the following: I haven't, thankfully, been part of or witnessed a crime. How can I write authentically about it? Charles Salzburg offers a response to this, encouraging us not to be limited by what we know. We can let our imaginations run wild and use Google and the news cycle as inspiration.
4. On subtext - Stephen Ross provides one of the best descriptions of subtext. He describes the following grocery shopping list a character might have: “Bread. Milk. Eggs. Hammer. Quicklime. Shovel. Champagne.” He explains that this works much better than explicitly describing how the character plans a murder.
5. On villains - T. Jefferson Parker talks about the importance of the villain when he says, “Don’t underestimate the importance of this character. Villains bring the dark into which we (the authors) can bring the illumination.”

Overall, this is an amazing read and an excellent resource for inspiration on how to write a mystery.

BOOK NOTE - Norwegian Wood - Haruki Murakami

 

My main impression of reading Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood can be summarized in three words: Unrealistic, uneasy, and "give me more." I am genuinely impressed by Murakami's story of becoming the writer he is, his journey, personal circumstances, habits, and philosophy, and I can by reading this book realize why he deserves his literary rock star status.

Let me explain why I felt this book was unrealistic, and how realizing something made me uneasy and wanting more Murakami.

Without spoiling the story, the protagonist, Toru, comes across as depressed, numb, but somehow, remarkably in control of himself. He has gone through some truly traumatic experiences in his young life, leaving him both numb and strangely optimistic. He moves through life, connecting with people and seemingly leaving them better off, but we don’t really see how he himself changes—despite the story being written from his point of view. Until the reader makes the uneasy realization which I will describe below.

Despite a certain non-appealing, uninteresting quality about him, he uncharacteristically ends up sleeping with every major female character and is also implied to have unromantic relationships with many other women off the narrative screen. This seemed unrealistic to me, even within the almost melancholic setting of late-20th-century Japanese life.

The women in Toru’s life seem one-dimensional, shaped by their own major traumas. So are most of the other characters. However, here is the uneasy realization. Their traits and actions are just reflections of different parts of Toru’s own personality. Naoko, his main female interest, represents the part of him that is reflective of his trauma—his sadness and the part of him that wants to give up, and eventually does. Kizuki, his childhood friend, embodies the root of his early trauma. Midori, his other female love interest, represents the carefree, wild side of Toru, but one that is tinged with the limitations of reality. For example, Midori and Toru are unable to fully give in to their desires for each other due to real-life constraints, such as Midori’s dying father. Nagasawa, his wealthy and powerful university friend, symbolizes Toru’s masculinity—a part of himself that he despises and ultimately banishes from his life. Hatsumi, Nagasawa's fiancée, embodies the ideal partner Toru desires. She is the only one he doesn’t sleep with, because he does not respect what he desires. It’s remarkably poignant that Toru’s inability to save Hatsumi—whether from Nagasawa’s disdain —leads to the loss of his feminine ideal forever. Reiko, a much older woman and a recluse from society, symbolizes maturity—or the lack thereof. As Naoko’s close companion, she represents the memory of his troubled youth. His intimate encounter with her at the end is symbolic of holding onto the past. Storm Trooper, his quirky roommate, represents discipline and routine, which Toru mostly treats as a joke before it disappears from his life.

What left me uneasy was how unrealistic the characters feel when taken at face value as part of a conventional story—until the realization dawns that Norwegian Wood is really about Toru interacting with different parts of himself. This, to me, is the masterstroke of Murakami’s writing in this book, and left with the need to read more of his work.

Give me more!

BOOK NOTE - The Pillars of Hercules: A Grand Tour of the Mediterranean - Paul Theroux

 

A good travelogue is always a good companion, especially when you are not travelling. Paul Theroux's The Pillars of Hercules: A Grand Tour of the Mediterranean is a book about a journey that is a journey in itself. I started reading it in December 2021, and while I usually finish books fast, this one has been a slow read. I completed it in October 2024. The reason is as follows: I have been distracted and have a mild case of reading too many books at the same time.

It is a typical Theroux book, but at the same time, a bit of a pessimistic ramble. I read it with the same love-hate relationship Theroux seems to have with the places he is visiting. Theroux starts in Gibraltar and, instead of crossing the Straits to hop over to Morocco, takes the long route along the interior of the Mediterranean by road and by boat, making an epic journey to the two pillars of Hercules. He does this in the 1990s, when the whole region is going through a lot of transition but is also the Mediterranean of the romantic era, unspoiled by Instagram and travel apps.

In typical Theroux fashion, he documents the idiosyncrasies of the coastal towns and villages through the interactions he has with people there. The best among them are the meetings he has with other authors based in the region—some local, some expat, and some long dead. Along the way, he encounters Salvador Dalí's estate in Figueres, Spain, and reminisces about Hemingway's love of fiestas. In Antibes, he visits Graham Greene's home and has many such encounters with the literati of the past, all of whom found themselves and their writing inspired by the Mediterranean.

Some of the best parts of the book come when he visits notable living authors. He visits Naguib Mahfouz in Egypt and Paul Bowles in Morocco. But why I struggled with this book, only able to read it in bursts and in between finishing many other books, is because Theroux is rather caustic and utterly shreds the romantic experience one has of places like the French Riviera and the Adriatic Coast, revealing their true grunginess. I was reminded of the time I was in Naples back in 2009 and was left uninspired by it.

What kept me going was the Theroux magic of weaving history, anthropology, tragedy, and humour in his writing about the place. On reflection, this is a great book, which feels like an ugly piece of graffiti on an ancient Greek marble column.

BOOK NOTE - Why We Sleep - Matthew Walker

 

Every so often, a book changes your life. Matthew Walker’s Why We Sleep is one such book. Reading about sleep and Walker’s passionate advocacy for a good night’s rest was, ironically, the wake-up call I needed.

Society is deeply misguided when it puts hustle culture on a pedestal, and burning the midnight oil is seen as an achievement, when in fact, it endangers our lives. Walker eloquently explains how modern life has lost the essential wisdom that guided humanity long before we became Homo sapiens. Sleep, the essential ingredient of life, has unfortunately been twisted into something grotesque. By discussing the science of sleep and its importance for our physical, mental, emotional, and behavioral health, Walker hopes to reconnect us with this life-giving force.

I’ve been fortunate to have mentors who stressed not burning the midnight oil. I vividly recall April 2015, during a client workshop I was leading as a market research consultant. I was unable to clearly present data and insights to senior clients who had paid me to do so. Like many consultants, I had stayed up late perfecting the slides, only to struggle the next day. Thanks to my boss, we managed to get through it. Later, a senior colleague shared how avoiding all-nighters had made him more successful. Not everyone is as lucky as I was. I write this at a time when glorified busy lives have claimed young consultants and bankers.

Walker’s book could offer these type-A personalities a pause, reshaping their views on the life-enhancing power of sleep.

Despite knowing the dangers, this book was a wake-up call. Lack of sleep makes us hypersensitive to experience-seeking, which leads to addiction. In today’s world, where phones feed us a constant stream of junk content, addiction is easy, making our minds obese. No wonder people doom-scroll their lives away. Sleep breaks this cycle and is the antidote to anhedonia—losing pleasure in life.

As E. Joseph Cossman said,

"The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night’s sleep."

Should to could; trading one burden with another

I have a hypothesis: The fundamental schism that has emerged in society over the last 30 years, driving both hypergrowth and hyperpolarization, is the shift from the “burden of shoulds” to the “burden of coulds.”

We once lived in a world largely bound by the “burden of shoulds” – we should pray to God, we should obey our parents, we should respect our elders, we should be kind, we should set limits. While there were pockets where these rules were relaxed, society as a whole was still deeply rooted in what one should do. There was change, but it was superficial, leaving the foundational "burden of shoulds" intact.

Somewhere in the last 30 years, this has tipped. Now, society is beholden to a different burden: the “burden of coulds.” I could do whatever I want. Previously, for the last couple of centuries, this agency of “what I could do” peaked during adolescence and middle age, as autonomy and financial independence grew. But after this hype of autonomy wore off, individuals reverted to the societal norm of the “burden of shoulds”. Some were trailblazers, but most were not. And this was normal.

If we go back further into history, the possibilities for defining one’s life were extremely limited. Most people didn’t have the capability or context to pursue a life defined by “coulds.” Inter- and intra-generational sameness was common. Most people followed their fathers’ and grandfathers’ professions. For generations, people adhered to the same philosophical and spiritual beliefs, doing what they should do to remain relevant.

Challenges to the “burden of shoulds” existed, of course. When Nietzsche, for instance, ponders the source of one's habits, he was challenging the dominance of the “burden of shoulds,” but this was not mainstream thought

“Is the source of one's habits coming from innumerable cowardice and laziness, or courage and inventive reasons?”

Recently, the scales have tipped, and the majority now operate within the realm of what could be – the Art of the Possible. This, to me, explains many of the happenings in society. The hypergrowth of Silicon Valley is driven by this burden of “could” – how could we make things faster and frictionless? How could we enable endless buying on credit? How could we replace traditional currency with digital assets? How could we make overconsumption sustainable?

The entire consulting industry, in my view, peddles these possibilities – constantly advocating for change and transformation, fueled by the “coulds.” As a sidebar, Ashley Goodall, a former consulting veteran, writes in his book The Problem with Change about how the cult of disruption has taken hold among executives. He notes:

While we were all busily disrupting ourselves hither and yon, we somehow lost sight of the fact that change and improvement are two different things. In the beginning, executives thought, ‘We need to fix this problem; therefore, we need to change.’ Now, too many believe, ‘We need to change, because then all the problems will be fixed.’

Earlier, I suggested that part of the work malaise we’re seeing today is due to this burden shift. The modern professional, especially in the last 30 years, is constantly navigating between the "burden of shoulds" (what is expected of us, what we believe we must do) and the "burden of coulds" (what we can do, what seems possible). This frequent switching between the two creates a mental tax, contributing to anxiety.

On a societal level, the hyperpolarization and the widening gap between rich and poor are also products of this schism. Political hyperpolarization is a manifestation of this desire for change and the exploration of possibilities. For example, the increasingly negative rhetoric in elections, and the abandonment of common decency, are acceptable to large segments of society because it could be okay to some group of hyperpolarized people. The same can be said for cancel culture and wokeism – extreme manifestations of the “burden of coulds,” where everyone could identify with any gender they choose, disregarding biological norms.

Nietzsche, while advocating for a challenge to certain "shoulds," also warned of the dangers of abandoning them. When he said “God is dead,” he wasn’t celebrating the demise of God, but rather warning of the consequences of a society that abandons universal moral truths. He wrote this in 1882, when the long arc of this change had already started.

Many modern philosophers in the 20th century argued for the benefits of “coulds” and accelerated this change. In the world of shoulds, saving oneself was seen as something external, requiring one to follow specific rules – religious or societal. In the modern world, salvation is often considered internal – you could do whatever you want to save yourself. This shift fully tipped into the “burden of coulds” in the early 21st century.

It’s crucial to note that “could” is considered to be better than “should” in the modern world. And while there is no denying that we are better off today than anytime in history, there are some problems with this schism. “Could”  is only better than “should” if it’s not a burden. But as a society, we’ve simply replaced one burden with another.

This replacement of the certainty of “shoulds” with the uncertainty of “coulds” presents the latest challenge. We have traded one authority figure for a new one. Psychologically, humans need authority figures. So now we idolize those who appear to live freely, doing whatever they could do. 

But it binds us to this new shallow, narcissistic authority figure – the mediocre self which is eternally trapped in the burden of what could be – instead of ever being content or feeling contentment. This is why we spend hours doom-scrolling on Instagram for example, living vicariously through others' curated lives, burdened by thoughts like, “I could travel there,” “I could be perfectly healthy,” “I could be perfectly productive,” etc.

In Book of Longing (2007), Leonard Cohen offers a timeless observation:

“We are moving into a period of bewilderment, a curious moment in which people find light in the midst of despair, and vertigo at the summit of their hopes. It is a religious moment also, and here is the danger. People will want to obey the voice of Authority, and many strange constructs of just what Authority is will arise in every mind… The public yearning for Order will invite many stubborn uncompromising persons to impose it. The sadness of the zoo will fall upon society.”

The sadness of the zoo has fallen upon society.

Trapped inside the cage, burdened by what could be, we are all looking out with longing eyes.

BOOK NOTE - What I talk about when I talk about running - Haruki Murakami

 

An excellent book to pick up and read, especially since I’ve signed up for a marathon in December 2024! Well, a half marathon actually, but still. I’m running the Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon, so when my wife Aditi picked up this book during her recent travels, I was delighted.

This is the first Murakami book I’ve read. Though it’s not one of his famous novels, it didn’t disappoint. Murakami has a unique way with words—simple yet speaking to the reader as an equal. I had heard about his passion for running and even knew how competitive he is. This memoir shows just how deeply running is a part of him.

Murakami treats running as a muse for his writing—both as a source of ideas and as an essential part of his life, which in turn fuels his success as a writer.

A few points really resonated with me:

One. Murakami writes about running to clear discontent. He says he runs to "acquire a void," and I could relate to this. Like him, I thrive in solitude, and physical activities like running, hiking, and walking help me process and transform discontent into something more mundane and manageable.

Two. I finally found the source of the quote: "Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional." Murakami attributes this wisdom to his brother, who taught him that while pain is part of life, one can choose not to suffer.

Three. The prose is simple but enriched with incredible metaphors. For example, when he describes working on his essays about running, he compares himself to a "silent village blacksmith, tinkering away." It’s a beautiful metaphor for quietly getting the work done.

I’m so glad I discovered this book while training for a half marathon. It has helped me refocus on my jogging routine. In some ways, I’m happy this was my first Murakami book—it makes me look forward even more eagerly to reading his famous novels.

In the embrace of the unknown courage can be found

In my recent readings, I have come across four inspirations that, at first glance, seem unrelated. Yet, in the crucible of my mind, they have lingered and coalesced into a single thought.

Let me start with the four inspirations.

First, from Susan Sontag in her essay Unguided Tour, which explores the discomfort of unfamiliar spaces that are foreign to us. I actually encountered this quote in Christopher Hitchens’ poignant work about the remnants of the British Raj in places like India and Hong Kong:

“That’s why I went. To say goodbye. Whenever I travel, it’s always to say goodbye.” — Susan Sontag.

Second, while reading Robin Sharma’s book The Everyday Hero Manifesto, I came across a discussion on how being faithful to one’s ideals can be a force multiplier. He talks about the joy of following one’s enthusiasm wherever it leads. In this context, he mentions a powerful quote from Anaïs Nin. Though I tried to find the exact source of this quote in Nin’s work, I was unsuccessful, but it remains evocative nonetheless:

“People living deeply have no fear of dying.” — Anaïs Nin.

Third, I discovered a quote about courage from Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses on X. Although I haven’t read the book yet, this quote immediately resonated with me, and I made a note of it:

“All courage is a form of constancy. It is always himself that the coward abandons first. After this, all other betrayals come easily.” — Cormac McCarthy.

Finally, I came across the concept of Fernweh during my podcast listening, likely from Dr. Laurie Santos’ The Happiness Lab, though I’m not entirely certain.

Fernweh is defined as a longing for the unfamiliar, the opposite of homesickness—literally, a 'farsickness'. It’s a yearning for travel and getting lost.

I found that these four inspirations share a common thread: the theme of confronting the unknown—whether through travel, mortality, or other experiences—and doing so with courage.

But the deeper meaning, to me, is as follows:

People who often find themselves lost are not losers, as the world might perceive them. They may seem lost in the eyes of others, but they are not cowards who have abandoned themselves; rather, they are looking deeply within. They are likely living deeply and are unafraid of dying. They are seeking something they have not yet found. I will admit that they might be afraid of saying goodbye, which is why they feel a sense of Fernweh, longing to travel and keep the journey going.

Afterall, to live deeply is to embrace the unknown, for in leaving the familiar behind, we can discover our courage.