I’m the father of a 5-year-old. He’s amazing but completely different from what I dreamed of during the pregnancy.
I always thought about him playing sports with me, kicking a football in the park, watching matches on the TV.
I pictured me teaching him about all the personal development stuff that I learned much later than I wished so, explaining to him the magic of compound interest, applied to finance or anything else in life.
I imagined myself talking very reasonably to him, with all the calm in the world, showing him the right and wrongs of life.
Books are like people; they have particularities that can bring something to the table, but they aren’t a match for everyone. Some books please most people, while others only fit a few, and that’s pretty much how humans see each other.
When a book is well written and its message is meaningful, it is more likely to connect with a broader audience, but there will always be exceptions.
Take for example Thinking, Fast and Slow, by Daniel Kahneman, mentioned by many as an all-time favorite, but one that I’ve always struggled to go through, despite finding its ideas very interesting…
You open your eyes.
You can see dust particles dancing in the spotlight of the 3 sunbeams coming from the window and landing on the top of the bedside table.
There lies another surprise. A medium-sized navy blue cardboard box, tied by a lighter blue ribbon, with a white card under the ribbon bow. It has your name written on it. You smile, what a great way to start the day.
You pick up the box and sit on the bed. You start pulling one end of the ribbon and the bow loosens smoothly. You’re excited and happy. You open…
I have awful legs.
30 years of sports have made them a mess.
They’re a medical log of surgeries, injuries, broken bones, and ripped flesh.
They’re not the worst legs in the world, as there are millions of people that have suffered indescribable accidents, and others who have no legs but have achieved things that I can’t imagine doing.
But my legs have issues that if I could choose I would rather not have. Still, they take me everywhere I go, so they’re not a real problem.
This got me thinking about why do I complain about my legs if…
“Mistakes cost money!”, said some grumpy guy a few centuries ago. He was probably in a dark room complaining, ’cause that’s what grumpy guys did back then.
Nowadays this expression is used very often to promote efficiency, prevent waste, and reinforce the opinion that your boss is a dick.
“Mistakes cost money, Brian, don’t you know that? You printed 2 copies of this briefing! IN COLOR!! Are you trying to shut us down??”
So sure, detecting and eliminate inefficiencies and waste is positive, and mistakes are something to avoid.
But can mistakes be a good thing?
Mistakes aren’t all of…
The following question is a big one, so I want to make it clear that my ideas on this topic are based on the work of someone with a bit more background than me: Sigmund Freud.
Everything we do freely can be explained as moving from a state of pain to a state of pleasure.
All our actions are made for a reason: getting to a better place than our previous point.
We don’t always succeed on it, but this formula is the essence of human existence, and, to some extent, the basis to happiness:
I have awful legs.
30 years of sports have made my legs a mess.
They’re a medical log of surgeries, injuries, broken bones, and ripped flesh, but they are also a memory book of fun, teamwork, victories, epic challenges, and personal achievements.
They are not, by far, the worst legs in the world; there are millions of much more hounded legs, people that suffered indescribable accidents that destroyed their limbs, and people that have no legs and even though achieved things that I can’t even imagine myself doing.
But my legs are terrible for me.
And yet, my legs take…
I wasn’t always an avid reader, but when I changed that, almost a decade ago, I started listing the books I read.
A few years later I came across Goodreads and I made my reading list there and kept it updated ever since.
When I saw their reading challenges I got excited and started to make reading goals every year. These challenges are a fun way to set goals and keep track of them; you choose your goal, in the number of books you want to read that year, and as you keep your reading list updated they will count…
Surprisingly, we’re already in mid-February.
I don’t know about you, but one year ago, if you would tell me that I was going to be working from home and stay there due to a lockdown, I would have guessed that time would be moving in slow motion, but the truth is that days are going by rapidly.
Despite this, we’re still on time to make this year a success and make ourselves stand out in the crowd, benefiting from the inertia of our competition.
More than ever, companies are looking for people that can not only keep the same levels…
“Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them.” — Lemony Snicket
I no longer count the books I read, but for the last 5 years, I’ve been reading dozens of books every year, something I didn’t do before.
Until my early 30s, I didn’t read many books. I would call myself a reader, but most of the written content I consumed was through blog posts and magazines, which is not bad, but books hold a different kind of wisdom.
At the time, I focused on lighter content, mainly because the perception I had from reading books was…