Dear Friend,

Often, when we make a mistake, our first response is regret. If we could go back in time, most of us would warn our past selves to avoid certain decisions. However, even if we could change our fate, we would probably make the same mistakes again. We would probably make them but in a different way.

Usually, something inside of us needs to be discovered. It wants to be discovered so it can teach us something. However, the path towards discovery can only be found by falling down a particular hole — it can only be found by making a particular mistake.

This mistake can take many forms. It can also occur at various times. But in the end, the result is the same — it will change us into someone we never would have been otherwise. It will turn us into the stronger and wiser person we are meant to become.

Usually, my dad and I go to dinner every Sunday. It has become a ritual for us over the past few months. I cherish these dinners. Growing up, my dad and I did not spend as much time together as we wanted.

My dad and his family immigrated to the United States from Jordan when he was fourteen. At that time, there were no opportunities for them. His parents struggled everyday to put enough food on the table for him and his siblings.

When my dad was driving me to high school one morning, I remember him telling me a story of how he made extra money as a kid. To help his parents, he collected bullet shells from the ground and exchanged them for coins. Apparently, people in Jordan could recycle them for money back then.

There was no such thing as ‘upward mobility’ in the Middle East. If you were poor, you stayed poor forever. In light of this, my dad and his family moved to the United States hoping to make a better life for themselves. They heard things were different over here.

When they got to the States, my dad and his family took advantage of every opportunity they could. One of the biggest opportunities they realized was education. My grandpa encouraged my dad to become a doctor because he believed this was their best chance at ‘making it.’ He was right.

My dad became the doctor his family envisioned. Once he saved enough money, he helped his brothers and sisters start their own businesses and careers. Eventually, they were no longer poor. They ‘made it.’ However, being a doctor was not easy.

Growing up, I felt my dad had the most demanding job. Some of my earliest memories are the sound of a beeper going off. I remember being at family gatherings, birthday parties and dinners and my dad’s phone or beeper would ring. It was usually the hospital asking him to come back to work. We never knew if he would make it home for dinner or before we went to bed. If he did, it was a pleasant surprise. My eyes would light up whenever I heard that front door open.

My dad’s sacrifice was worth it financially. Even though he came to this country with nothing, he was able to create a better life for his entire family. However, his demanding job left my dad and me longing for something. Deep down, we always wanted to make up for those lost moments.

My dad’s work schedule is still demanding but it is finally manageable. He got rid of his beeper and I cannot remember the last time he received an urgent phone call from the hospital. Now, if he wants to take Sundays off to go to dinner with his son, he can.

Unfortunately, I dampened our dinner plans one weekend. I woke up stressed the Saturday beforehand. One of my cousins was getting married the following week and there were a lot of family events we needed to attend. This meant I had to take off work. This made me uneasy. I was afraid I would fall behind.

To get ahead, I wanted to spend the Sunday before working. So I called my dad and asked him if we could cancel our dinner plans. He said that was fine. In fact, he thought it was a good idea. He had work he needed to finish too.

However, as I sat in my office that Sunday, I felt more uneasy than the day before. I felt guilty that I cancelled plans with my dad so I could work. Working too much is what we were trying to reconcile. This made me feel like a broken record.

Because of these thoughts, I was unproductive. I stared blankly at my computer all day. As I was sitting in my office chair, I looked out my window and saw a mother and daughter walking in the street. The two of them were holding hands. They were also laughing and smiling, it looked like the daughter said something funny. I then realized I gave up a beautiful moment just like that with my dad. This made my heart sink.

Right then, I realized I messed up. I regretted my decision and I wanted to go back in time. I wanted to tell myself to not cancel our plans. I wanted to tell myself that work can wait, it will always be here. I wanted to tell myself you only have so many moments with your dad, do not let any of them slip away.

Eventually, my nerves calmed down. As I was laying on my couch Sunday evening, I wondered whether this mistake was avoidable at all. After thinking things over, I realized this mistake was probably inevitable.

A part of me is a ‘workaholic.’ Before my dad and I started our dinner ritual, I used to work everyday. I would take breaks here and there but there was no schedule to them. This was the first time I dedicated an entire day each week to just living.

Since this routine was new, I was bound to trip up somewhere along the way. Expecting oneself to always be perfect is not realistic. The goal is not to never fall, the goal is to pick ourselves back up when we do.

I also think this mistake was inevitable because I grew up around other ‘workaholics.’ A part of that mindset is engrained in me. I hold nothing against my parents, they had no ‘real’ other choice but to work a lot. My dad and mom needed to support my siblings and me, as well as their own siblings. My mom’s family also immigrated to the United States from Jordan when she was a child. She was the firstborn too and her family came here with no money either.

Because of my family’s experiences, I know the importance of hard work and a part of me revels in it. I find satisfaction in seeing how far I can go. This mindset is not bad; in fact, it can be advantageous. Life is hard work, and no matter where we go, struggle will find us.

A part of finding fulfillment in life is realizing the beauty in our struggles; the beauty of pushing rocks up mountains. As the French philosopher and writer, Albert Camus, once said,

“The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart.”

When I was younger, words like Camus’ gave me fuel. They instilled in me a passion for appreciating the hard moments — moments we all experience in any career. However, as I matured, I realized these words need more context.

Life is not just work. Rarely does work in itself make life worthwhile. Most of us are lucky enough to have other things in our lives. Most of us have family and loved ones as well.

If you are reading this, then you have free time. You have the ability to appreciate the world around you. This means that a worthwhile life must include this precious gift you have been given. You must set aside time to appreciate the people and things you have been blessed with.

Through ever misstep, I understand life a little better. I believe I was meant to learn every lesson I have because a part of me needed to. In a way, many of the mistakes I made were bound to happen. Had I not fallen one way, I would have fallen another way at a different time. Each mistake has helped me to become more of the person I was meant to be. This does not mean we have no choice in our lives, however.

Life is a marriage between choice and fate. While we cannot choose what happens to us, we always have the choice as to how we respond. We can either become bitter and resentful, or we can see every experience as an opportunity to learn and grow. In the end, this is the only choice we need.

When we trip, we should be gentle with ourselves. We are bound to fall at some point. Usually, we fall because there is something on the ground we need to see — something we are destined to see. There is no way getting around this nor should we want to. Our only choice is whether we are going to learn and grow from our mistakes now or later.

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Dear Friend,

Some say the first step towards happiness — or love — starts from within. In theory, this sounds great. It is also catchy. However, life is not so binary. For some, the first step might be the other way around. Maybe the biggest act of self-care and self-love is to focus our attention on someone or something else.

When you look back on your happiest moments, were you thinking about yourself or were you so enamored with the world that you forgot yourself? Personally, my happiest experiences are when my thoughts dissolve and it is just the world and me dancing together.

Instead of focusing so much on ‘I’, maybe we should pay more attention to people and things other than ourselves. Often, this is where the most beautiful moments are born. Often, they are born when we notice how tranquil the birds outside our windows sound, or when we notice how beautiful someone’s smile is, or when we are so engaged in a conversation that the universe disappears.

Last week, I was sitting outside on my patio in the morning. It was looking like a beautiful day. The sun was lazily creeping out. The birds were singing their morning song as they slowly woke up. There was also a gentle breeze in the air. However, at first, I was oblivious to all of this.

Instead of appreciating my surroundings, my eyes were glued to my phone. I made a post on Instagram earlier that morning and it was performing poorly. This made me anxious. I started to obsessively check the post hoping there was some kind of glitch and that magically the likes and comments would come pouring in. They never did.

At that moment, I felt small. I felt like I embarrassed myself in front of thousands of people. I told myself you are dumb for posting that, you should have spent more time on it, you rushed yourself, people are probably tired of you now. The self-critiquing went on and on.

Meanwhile, my mom called me while I was outside. We call each other every morning. As we chatted, I was still looking at my phone. I was so distracted that I could not remember what we talked about. After we hung up, I felt bad. I realized I spaced out during the entire conversation. I wasted the only phone call I would have with my mom that morning.

Right then, I realized I needed to center myself. I needed to step away from my phone. So I went into my apartment and I put my phone safely away. I grabbed my running shoes and keys. I then locked my door and went on a walk.

As I was strolling, I kept thinking about my Instagram post. I wanted to forget it but I was unable. I kept thinking I was a failure. Luckily, my obsessive thoughts stopped when I ran into a couple walking their dog.

Their dog was adorable. He reminded me of my family’s dog. I told the couple this and they said I was welcomed to pet him. I never pass up an opportunity to pet a dog so I kneeled down. Their dog seemed happy as my hand caressed his back. His tail started to wag. I could tell he wanted me to massage his head because he kept nudging the top of his nose in the air so I did. Afterwards, he seemed like he was in heaven. His joy was so infectious I started to smile too.

The couple and I then began talking. They told me their dog’s name is Benji. I told them,

“I am thinking of getting a dog but I am nervous. I work a lot and I am not sure I can handle it right now.”

They told me,

“It is a lot of work. But it is so worth it. At first, we did not think we were ready either. We were hesitant just like you. However, after we got Benji, we realized it is never the perfect time. Sometimes you just have to jump in full body and hope you swim. This year has been hard on all of us. The best part of having Benji is that whenever we are feeling low he picks up our spirits. When you look at him, you know that his love is unconditional. Realizing another being can love you like that softens every part of you. It reminds you how beautiful life can be.”

They then kneeled down to pet Benji alongside me. All three of us were petting him now and the look on his face was pure joy. To show his appreciation, he started to lick our hands. This made the three of us laugh and smile.

While we were talking, I started to wonder whether I should get a dog too. I have a busy life but maybe a dog would be good for me I thought; maybe I was too consumed in my own life and I needed to share my life with someone else, maybe sharing is what living is all about.

Eventually, we said goodbye and I continued on my walk. As I was walking, I realized I was not thinking about my problems at all during that conversation. I was so captivated by their company I forgot about my personal issues. For a moment, the world faded away and it was just the four of us enjoying each other’s presence.

As I kept walking, I noticed how alive the world was. There were squirrels running up trees. Bicyclists were riding through the streets. Friends were holdings hands while they laughed together. I said good morning to the people who crossed my way and they all smiled as they said good morning back. For a brief moment, the universe seemed to be in perfect harmony. It seemed like someone had finally brought peace to my corner of the world.

A few moments earlier, I was in a different headspace. I was grumpy and irritated, all because I was consumed in myself. I was fixated on who I was and who I wanted to be. In turn, I ignored everyone and everything else. Fortunately, those feelings did not last. Once I defocused on myself, I started to feel alive again. The knot in my stomach started to untangle. My slouching shoulders started to push back. Most importantly, my heart started to open.

We cannot always focus on the present moment. Sometimes we have to learn from our past and other times we have to plan for the future. Sometimes we must also be cognizant of how others perceive us because we are social creatures. But when we are feeling stressed or anxious, one of the best remedies is to pay attention to someone or something other than ourselves. Maybe this means going on a walk or reading a book. Maybe this means spending quality time with a loved one or a pet. The key is to simply focus on the world in front of us — it is to notice the beauty that is already here.

By noticing the beauty in others, we are also more likely to notice the beauty inside of us. Even though we are unique, we share many qualities with one another. In fact, when we pull back the curtain, we are more similar than different. Like a reflex, we start to see these similarities once we look outward; once we pay attention to the wonder and magic around us.

Happiness and joy — and especially love — are not inside our heads. Often, the moments that make life worth living are outside. They are found by opening our arms as we pay attention to someone or something other than you and me. They are found by saying ‘yes’ to the life being created now. They are found by accepting the universe’s hand as we dance with it in this very moment, in spite of everything.

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Dear Friend,

Sometimes we are going to make mistakes. To grow, we have to embrace our missteps — we have to open our eyes so we can learn from them.

There is no such thing as a perfect life. There will always be bumps. There will always be issues. Problems happen even in the best relationships and jobs. Life is not about avoiding problems — it is about solving problems you cannot imagine not solving.

Last week, I mentioned I was working on a letter titled “The Art of Saying Goodbye.” My plan was to share it with you this weekend, but life does not always go as planned.

After re-writing the letter multiple times, I had a feeling something was missing. While talking on the phone with my mom last night, I realized what that was: I chose the wrong story.

In the letter, I talk about letting go of certain relationships. I explain that not every relationship needs to last forever. Some people are only meant to come into our lives momentarily. Sometimes these people will show us who we are and who we are not. Sometimes we will even pave new roads with these people — roads we never could have made without them. Because of these people, we will become stronger and wiser than we were before.

To illustrate this topic, I wrote a story about a phone call I had with an old friend from New York. I explained how that phone call reminded me that our friendship had faded and how we were no longer the people we used to be.

After the phone call, I looked out my window feeling both sad and grateful. I was sad that our friendship was no longer as strong, but I was also grateful that our friendship happened. Nothing is guaranteed in life and I know I am lucky for having traveled on the roads I have. I am lucky for every friend I have made, no matter how brief our exchange was.

In theory, this story sounded perfect to me. However, after writing it, my feelings changed. As I typed the letter, I felt I was going through the motions. At first, I thought I was tired but my lack of enthusiasm never went away, even after a good night’s sleep.

Finally, I sent the letter to my mom and I asked her what she thought. I was unsure if I liked the letter and I wanted to know her opinion. She agreed with me. Something felt missing to her too. My writing did not feel alive.

The two of us then read the letter together. We wanted to see if we could find what was wrong. She read the letter out loud to me, and at that moment, I noticed what the issue was. The story I wrote was not really a story. It was just information.

When I explained the conversation between my friend and me, I regurgitated all the things you would expect old friends to talk about. We told each other what we have been up to and that we missed one another. But this does not make for a good story. It was not the kind of story I wanted to tell and I could feel that in my writing.

The past few weeks I have been trying to hone my writing skills. Lately, you might have noticed a slight change in my style. For example, I have been incorporating more stories. Stories are powerful. As humans, we need them. The way we remember most things is through stories.

When I first began this newsletter, my writing was direct. I rarely incorporated stories. There was a poetic undertone in my words, but the overall message was up front. I would explain a lesson and that would be it. This approach is great for social media, but not-so much for longer form writing. Often, the most memorable pieces of writing are told through stories. This is because our brains process things through pictures. A story is essentially a collection of pictures — it is a collection of pictures in the mind.

I have no background in storytelling, or even writing for that matter. Every day I am learning. Every day I am discovering things I never knew. This week I learned one thing that every good story needs. Something needs to happen in a story. There needs to be action. This action does not need to be big, and in fact, it is preferable if the action is small. Storytelling is about relatability. It is about the writer and reader sharing a moment together — it is about them connecting through a shared experience.

The letter I wrote this week lacked that moment because my heart was somewhere else. My heart left because there was no imagery in the words. Maybe it is possible to tell a story about a phone call, but I am not that good of a writer yet. To get excited, I need to be able to paint a picture in my mind. Without a picture, my writing becomes mechanical and that is not the kind of work I want to share.

Luckily, there is always a lesson to be learned, even in our failings. This week I learned I need movement in my stories — something needs to happen — otherwise my heart drifts away. Unfortunately, this means the letter I planned to share this week is not ready. I need to find another story to illustrate the message. I am not sure when it will be ready, but I am alright with that. Sometimes mistakes have to be made.

Sometimes we need to fall. Sometimes there is something on the ground we need to see — something we cannot see standing up. We cannot expect life to always run smoothly. No matter how beautiful a road looks, there will always be bumps. There will always be missteps. However, if we open our hearts, missteps can be beautiful. Every misstep or mistake is an opportunity to learn and grow. It is a chance to turn our world into something better than it was. There is nothing more exciting than that.

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Dear Friend,

The rain moves through the world in a soft and elegant way. It comes whether it is welcomed or not, because it knows it has to. It reminds us that the sun will not always be here, and so we should cherish the sun the next time it comes around.

Sometimes we want to get rid of the rain in our lives. Sometimes we wish to be taken to a different world — one where the sun is always shining. However, is it possible to appreciate the sun without the rain? When I say appreciate, I mean really appreciate. Would we notice the way the sun glistens as it creeps over the trees in the morning? Would we notice the way the sky lights up like gold as the evening turns to night? Would we notice how crisp the sun feels on our skin as we lay outside on the grass? I am not sure we would. The rain gives us love for the sun.

Without the rain, maybe we would forget that the sunshine was even here. Maybe we would forget to say “good morning.” Maybe we would postpone our beach days because we could always do them another day.

The rain and clouds are metaphors for life. We cannot control what will happen in our lives, just like we cannot control the weather. The sun and good times will be here one day and they will disappear the next. They will disappear without any warning sometimes. At first, we will blame the rain and clouds for our misfortune. We may even become bitter at the sun for leaving. However, we must remember that the sun cannot always be here. Sometimes the sun needs to leave so we can see certain things — things only visible in the dark.

Last week, there was a lot of rain. The sky outside my office window was dark and grey. The plants in the garden nearby looked healthy but cold — it looked like they could use a coat. For some reason, the weather reminded me of when I was a kid.

Growing up, I remember disliking the rain. I grew up in Southern California where it rained very little. When it rained, the world around me seemed to stop. It felt like a light switch was turned off. The busy roads became empty. The sidewalks became silent. The dogs in the park stopped barking. I remember my mom telling me not to drive in the rain when I got my driver’s license. I asked her why and she told me, “Californians do not know how to drive in the rain. They get scared.”

As a kid, I convinced myself I had to stay inside during the rain because that is what everyone else did. I was convinced the rain was something I should avoid. I think this hurt me more than the rain ever could. In a way, I convinced myself to put my life on hold whenever it rained. I refrained from calling friends or making plans. I assumed the rain was no fun, and in turn, no fun was had.

All of this changed one day while I was living in New York City. It was around midnight and I had just finished dinner with some friends. I forget exactly what we talked about during the meal but I remember feeling happy and hopeful afterwards. I remember a sparkle of magic being in the air that night.

After dinner, we parted ways and I decided I would walk home. The restaurant was only 20 blocks from my apartment and the nighttime breeze felt nice on my skin. As I was walking, I started to feel raindrops falling from the sky. I then realized that I forgot to bring an umbrella. In a few seconds, the sidewalk sounded like it was making popcorn. Buckets of water dumped from the sky. The streets became flooded. I saw a tree nearby and I ran towards it to take cover.

While I stood under the tree, I contemplated calling an Uber. It was 10 more blocks to my apartment. I thought calling a car might be a waste of money but I also did not want to get my clothes and shoes wet. I pulled out my phone to see how much a car would be and I noticed my phone was dead. I thought, “No problem, I will just wave down a cab.” However, as I patted my back pocket, I realized my wallet was not there. I would later learn I left my wallet at the restaurant.

I started getting irritated. I thought, “Why did it have to start raining now? I was so close to being home. I was having such a great time until this. What a horrible ending to an otherwise beautiful night.”

I stood under the tree for about ten minutes with an unpleasant look on my face. My arms were crossed as I waited for the rain to stop. Another ten minutes passed by. The rain was not going to stop anytime soon. If anything, the rain was getting worse and it was going to last a few more hours at the very least.

I knew that standing under a tree all night was not an option. I had to get up early for work in the morning. At that moment, I realized the only thing I hated more than rain was lack of sleep. I knew I needed to get home soon.

I finally held my hand out to see if the rain was cold. As the water touched my fingers, I realized the rain actually felt nice. Almost reflexively, I started to slowly step out. For some reason, stepping into the rain felt like the right thing to do at that moment. Maybe my curiosity got the best of me or maybe I realized I had nothing to lose. I am not exactly sure.

I found myself standing completely in the rain. If you saw me in the street that night, you would have probably thought I was crazy. Standing in the rain might seem inconsequential to some people, but for some reason, in that moment it felt liberating. I was standing there — taking in everything the world had to offer — for the first time in my life.

As my clothes and shoes were getting soaked, I looked up into the sky and I noticed droplets coming towards me. I noticed how beautiful those droplets were. They looked like little piano keys falling from the sky.

I started walking. As I headed towards my apartment, I entered a slight haze. A cathartic feeling built up inside me. My problems felt so small. The fact that my clothes and shoes were drenched did not bother me. The fact that I had to get up early for work did not bother me either. All of a sudden, I started smiling and I had no idea why. It felt like a giant weight had been lifted, a weight I had been carrying for far too long.

Often, our fears are worse than the things we are afraid of. Maybe we believe fear is a shortcut to life. Maybe we believe fear protects us. However, shortcuts only make our journeys longer. Fear is the biggest obstacle between us and everything life has to offer. In this sense, fear hurts us more than anything else ever will.

On the other hand, we cannot dismiss our fears. We cannot act like they do not exist. Our fears get us moving. They wake us up. They remind us that our next step is important. A meaningful life is not found by being unafraid — it is found when we decide to live, in spite of everything.

Sometimes we are afraid to get hurt. Sometimes we convince ourselves life should be another way. However, maybe life was meant to unfold in this manner. Maybe there was something life was trying to teach us — something we never would have learned otherwise.

Looking back, the rain had given me something I never knew I needed that night. It gave me a sense of peace I was lacking. You see, we cannot control what happens, just as much as we cannot control the weather. The only thing we can control is how we react. We can either move forwards or backwards. On that rainy night, I realized this is the only choice I ever needed.

No matter where you are, eventually it will rain. The rain comes for us all. Maybe it is raining for you right now. Along our journeys, darkness and sadness will sometimes fall too, just like the rain. The point of life is not to turn away from these experiences, just because we forgot our umbrellas. Every struggle enriches our story — it gives us a reason to keep turning the page.

We must embrace both the good and bad chapters of our story. Even the bad ones have lessons to teach us; maybe even more so than the good ones. Sometimes the bad chapters open our eyes by showing us that there is an invincible force within us — a force that will shine bright in both the rain and snow. A force that will shine bright regardless of where we go.

A beautiful story is not a perfect one from beginning to end. A beautiful story is not just sunshine and rainbows. A beautiful story also contains clouds and rain. A beautiful story is not only about beauty and magic, but also about pain and heartbreak. A beautiful story is about getting to the mountaintop by overcoming the challenges along the way; challenges that even the most average life has to face. It is about holding our heads high — despite it all — as we dance and laugh in the pouring rain.

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Dear Friend,

Sometimes we are going to fall short. Sometimes we are going to be disappointed, even when we try our best. This is natural. No one hits a home run every time.

When things go wrong or not as expected, we can make one of two choices. We can either become bitter, or we can hold our heads high and move forward, despite it all. The latter choice is the better one but it is up to us whether we choose it. It is up to us whether we make something beautiful with what we have, because we always can.

This week I struggled with the newsletter. Last week, I mentioned there would be a Part II to The Meaning of Life. Unfortunately, the words I wrote do not feel right. I feel like there is something missing in them.

For all of my writings, I have a personal litmus test to determine if it is ready, meaning there is a sign I look for. The test is whether my eyes get watery while writing it. If my eyes do not get teary at some point, then the letter is not ready. This means I have not put enough of myself into it. This means it is not art (not yet).

Art is not made by having the best equipment or by being an expert. Art is made by putting your heart into something. It is made by getting someone to feel something they never would have otherwise (this person can even be you).

In a sense, we are all artists. We make art every day because life is a dance. We make art in the way we move and in the way we sing. The beautiful marks we leave on each other are also art.

Art is lost when we go through the motions. We become more machine-like, rather than artists, when we turn on autopilot. An artist may have a sense of direction, but they never know exactly where they are headed (this is what makes their art human).

Number 5 by Jackson Pollock.

One of my favorite artists is Jackson Pollock. He is famous for his drip-style paintings where he would throw paint on the canvas in a ‘seemingly’ random way. However, the way he dripped paint was not entirely random. His style of drip painting was called “semi-automatism,” meaning he knew where the paint was going but he also did not. At first, he would direct his hand in a certain direction and then he would let go — he would let his hand (and the paint) flow wherever it may.

Pollock’s style of painting is similar to the human experience, which is one of the reasons so many people are drawn to it. For example, when we talk to someone, do we know every word we are going to say during the conversation? Or do we just know how we are going to start it? Often, the best conversations lead to places we never expected.

We are constantly standing at the crossroad between what we know and what we are about to know. To produce good work and to live a good life, we must remember this. We must keep ourselves open to the serendipity of life. There is nothing wrong with having a plan or goal but we cannot let these things control the direction of our story.

We are destined for wonderful places — places we cannot imagine yet — but we have to keep our eyes open for signs on the road. A beautiful journey is never a straight shot. A beautiful journey will take us through winding roads, and across mountains and snow. It will take us, if we are willing, to places we never knew we wanted to go. However, a beautiful journey is never guaranteed, it is merely an opportunity. It is an opportunity we can either seize or ignore.

While writing this week’s newsletter, I felt like something was wrong. The original letter I wrote seemed forced and it did not feel like art to me. In light of these feelings, I started over this morning and wrote this letter instead. When I write, I want my words to be real. I want them to embody life.

I remember sitting in my chair this week and looking out the window in my office. I saw the leaves on the trees outside waving back and forth, almost like they knew where they were going. I heard the birds chirping as they woke up, almost like they knew what song they were going to sing. I saw people laughing and smiling as they went on their morning walks, almost like they knew the paths they were going to take. However, I am not sure those leaves, those birds or those people knew where they were headed. Maybe they had a sense of direction but I like to imagine their destination was a surprise. I like to imagine they went somewhere they did not expect. This is what a real life means I think. It is about standing at the intersection between what we think our lives will be and the eternal unknown. 

I am not sure what the meaning of your life is. The meaning of life is different for all of us and it may change throughout our lives. However, wherever we stand in life, there is a similarity in all of our stories — the point of us being here is to realize the opportunities knocking at our door. It is about making the world more beautiful, both for ourselves and for others, in whatever way we can. It is about taking responsibility for the direction of our lives while also remaining open to that direction changing. It is about staying human every step along the way. It is about waking up every morning and deciding to make art, in spite of everything.

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Dear Friend,

Procrastination is something many of us would rather do without. To some people, procrastination seems unnecessary and it represents an act of laziness. However, to create something worthwhile, sometimes we need to break away from our work and go for a walk instead. This breaking away, or procrastinating as some might say, allows us to come back to the task at hand with fresh and clear eyes.

Good work cannot be rushed. The idea that we can, or should, avoid procrastination is somewhat naive — it is like eating a fruit before it ripens. Procrastination, or stepping away, is a crucial part of the process. It is a test of our patience and it give us the room to evaluate where we are and where we are headed.

Good decisions can be made quickly, if trained properly, but they are seldom made when we are rushed. A person who tries to avoid procrastination entirely is susceptible to feelings of urgency. Often, these people have an unshakeable sensation that their life is an emergency and they must keep going at full speed, no matter the cost.

Nothing is worth pursuing at all costs. This is how tyranny is created, both politically and personally. It is made when we convince ourselves that sacrificing today is justified because it is cultivating a utopia in the future. A utopia can never be made off the back of the present moment. If we ever reach the magical future we imagined, we will likely spot a new destination shortly thereafter — we will spot a new utopia to sacrifice for.

Procrastination is a strange and beautiful opportunity — it is an opportunity to better understand the gifts we have been given and the gifts we are meant to share. It is a chance to unravel the mystery behind who we are and who we are meant to become.

Sometimes procrastination happens because our heart is trying to tell us there is something else we need to explore, something we are neglecting. Maybe our procrastination is a blessing in disguise, maybe it is trying to show us someone or something we would have never seen otherwise.

For example, while writing this letter, I had a serious case of writer’s block. I had been trying to write something since last Monday, but nothing came to fruition for an entire week. I tried forcing a few ideas here and there, but nothing felt right. My usual enthusiasm was missing.

I remember waking up every morning and staring out the window. The sun was shining over the trees outside. I could hear the birds chirping. I could see people smiling as they walked their dogs across the street. Usually, this would be the perfect setting for me to write. Everyday I expected the words to start flowing but the river felt dry. I felt stuck.

I could feel the clock ticking as last weekend got closer and closer. I worried I would not be able to finish this newsletter in time. I convinced myself that if I missed my Sunday deadline everything might fall apart — people might stop caring about my work and forget about me.

However, then I took a step back. I started to think, “What would happen if I postponed this newsletter? From a reader’s perspective, would they rather read something that was rushed or something that had ripened? What would make the world a better place?”

Maybe there is not one right answer to the questions I asked. Maybe the right answer is a marriage between seemingly opposite choices. Maybe the best approach is a mix between speed and patience. However, last week I felt I was leaning more towards the former choice — I felt rushed.

This is not just an issue for me, it is also a major problem in today’s culture. Whether we are in business, media or art, we rarely give our work — or ourselves — enough time to mature. We expect things to have been done yesterday. When we see our impending deadlines, we scramble to put things together as quickly as possible and this happens over and over again. We feel like we never have enough time. It is like we stepped onto an imaginary treadmill with the speed and incline set to the highest level. However, treadmills never take us anywhere, no matter how hard we run.

After processing all of this, I decided I would postpone this newsletter for a week. I wanted to give this letter time to mature and I also wanted to see if my procrastination was the result of something else calling me, something I was ignoring.

In the meantime, I worked on other projects. In particular, I started experimenting with videos. Making videos was — and still is — something that feels out of my element. Putting my face in front of a camera is nerve racking. Sharing a photo, a letter or a podcast is one thing, but posting a video is much more revealing — it makes you vulnerable from all sides. However, in hindsight, this was an irrational fear holding me back. I can make good videos. There is nothing inherent that makes me incapable of doing so. I just need to set aside the time to practice.

Instead of writing every morning like I usually do, I decided I would put down my pen for the week and practice recording videos. At first, I felt awkward talking in front of a camera. By the middle of the week, I was much more comfortable. I started to get somewhat of a flow going too. Near the end of the week, I started envisioning where I could take this medium. I started imagining these newsletters being the framework for future YouTube videos. I also thought about making videos on completely different topics too. In the strongest sense, my inspiration was sparked again. I was excited and committed to see where this new path would lead.

I have always had a passion for videos. Somewhere along the way I forgot that. In the early days of YouTube, I would post videos of my friends and me skateboarding. I would create video montages of our weekend skateboarding trips, usually with our favorite song at the time playing in the background. This week, I tried looking for some of these videos. I found one from 2008 that was still on my computer. Watching the video took me back in time. I could almost feel the rolling wheels and board under my feet again.

The feelings associated with a video are completely different than the ones sparked from a photo, a letter or a podcast. One is not better than the other; they are simply different. They each have their own unique qualities and values. If I want to give my career the best chance to blossom, I need to grow my craft in all mediums because there is something magical and empowering about each of them. I feel like my procrastination last week was trying to tell me this — it was trying to remind me to experiment more.

Like most people, I am sometimes reluctant to experiment, especially when I am comfortable. I am very much a creature of habit and I love my routines. I eat the same breakfast every morning. After breakfast, I drink coffee on the same chair in my living room and I read for about 30 minutes. Finally, I sit down at my desk near the window in my office and I start working. I love this whole process. However, while having routines and schedules are important, unless they are elastic we will never last. We need to be flexible otherwise valuable opportunities will pass us by.

Sometimes we use our routines as an excuse to avoid challenges. We tell ourselves we do not have time for “X, Y or Z.” However, if we ignore things just because they seem challenging, we will never grow. I am not saying we should actively seek discomfort, but we should not steer away from discomfort either. Life is going to throw challenges our way whether we look for them or not — it is our choice whether we turn those challenges into opportunities for growth and change.

When we embrace the things we are subconsciously avoiding, our minds become clearer. After giving myself some space, my writer’s block started to fade away, which is evident from this letter you are now reading. There was something new I needed to explore, something I was previously ignoring. Once I discovered this new thing, my procrastination disappeared — it is almost like it was never here.

Procrastination does not stop us from creating unless we give up. If we stay committed with a curious and open mind, what is meant to be will reveal itself so long as we are willing to see it. Procrastination is not a sign of our inability — it is merely an opportunity to open our eyes. It is a chance to discover someone or something we never knew we knew; someone or something that is looking for us too.

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Dear Friend,

In today’s culture, we are often encouraged to churn out work as quickly as possible so we can move on to the next task. However, the ideal approach is not so black and white. There is a place where both speed and patience can and should come together. When we find this place, beautiful things can and will come true — I wholeheartedly believe this.

Unfortunately, the letter I am currently writing needs more time to mature. I had a case of writer’s block this week and the words for the current letter did not start flowing until Friday/Saturday.

Before I post something, I like to give my work time to breath so I can come back to it with fresh eyes. Posting the letter now feels rushed — it would be like eating a fruit before it ripens. In light of this, I am going to take my own advice and postpone my current letter until next Sunday.

In the meantime, feel free to read my newsletter from last week or listen to my recent podcast episode if you missed them.

We will talk again soon — I promise! Until then, I am sending lots of love and light to all of you.

Dear Friend,

We are often reluctant to rest. Maybe we believe taking a break will cause us to fall behind. Maybe we have accomplished something and we are afraid to lose it. However, rest does not hurt us — it heals us. Rest gives us the strength to come back stronger and it provides us space to evaluate where we have been, where we are and where we are headed. 

We are not being selfish when we rest. Rest is an opportunity to better understand what we have been given and what we are meant to give in this life. It is a chance to find a better footing on the ground — a footing that will allow us to share the best of ourselves. 

When we are in a state of constant motion, our vision becomes blurry. We might lose track of what really matters. We might even forget our reason why. Worst case scenario, our tired eyes may lead us down a road we never intended to travel. 

I am not my best self when I am tired. My temper shortens and my nerves become agitated. I can feel myself getting both hot and cold. I can sense the inner fire that kept me warm fading away. The creative spark that was once a good friend becomes a distant stranger.

Last week I felt unusually tired. My brain was both empty and cluttered. It felt like there was a grey fog hovering over me. I could no longer see the beautiful city lights I once knew so well. This made me nervous. I wondered whether I would be able to see those lights again. 

I also felt depleted creatively. I could not write or make anything — there was no story I wanted to tell. I felt stagnant. I felt like I had been running for awhile, except I was on a treadmill heading nowhere. 

The weeks leading up to these feelings were lonely. I had recently moved back to my apartment full-time. Previously, I was spending most weeks at my mom’s house because of the pandemic. Living alone during the lockdown felt isolating so I used that time to reconnect with family. 

Those moments back home have a special place in my heart. I had not lived in the same house as my mom in over ten years. I got to greet her every morning and every night. She would pick my spirits up at the end of a long workday and I would do the same for her. I also got to rekindle relationships with other family members. Many of my cousins lived nearby and I would see them every afternoon usually. These interactions were a break in my day — they cut through whatever I was doing and brought me back to earth. 

On June 15th, the lockdown rules in California ended. I was comfortable at my mom’s house, but I knew I had to go back into the world. I knew I had to start living again so I moved my belongings back to my apartment.

During the first few weeks, I found myself working more than usual. I saw friends here and there, but for the most part, I spent my time writing or working on other projects. Instead of greeting my mom in the morning, I now greet a computer screen. 

I love my work, sometimes a little too much. Loving what we do is a slippery slope. Sometimes we get consumed in what we love. Sometimes we turn the blinders on and neglect everything else. This can leave us feeling exhausted. This can drain the life out of us. 

Last week, I fell down that slippery slope. I needed to pump the brakes. Usually, I look at the glass half full, but instead I was thinking of everything going wrong or not as planned. I was thinking of everything I did not have but wanted. I started doubting my ability to do things. I started thinking, “Am I even good at writing? Am I capable of writing a novel one day? Where is my writing career going — is it even going anywhere at all?” 

I knew these thoughts were not me. I knew I needed to recalibrate. I needed to step back and clear my mind. I have had these thoughts and feelings before — they usually occur when I am working too hard.

I work most days, but last weekend I put everything aside. I called some friends and we went to the beach. I had not been to the beach in a long time. The ocean wind felt like it was going to pick me up as it blew on by. It sounded like the crushing waves were singing a lullaby just for me. My favorite part was lying in the sun. The sun was welcoming me into its home ever so gently, like a tender friend would. I felt the rays of sunshine energizing me, like a flower just beginning to blossom.

I spent a majority of the day talking with my friends as we sat on the sand. We saw very little of each other during the pandemic. We had a lot of catching up to do. We laughed at stories from our past — stories of how dumb and young we used to be. We shed some tears for people and things we now miss. We realized how precious some of the moments from our past actually were. We talked about our struggles and our visions for the future. We did not explicitly say this, but deep down we were all hopeful. We knew that our best days were still ahead of us. 

We ended the day by sharing a meal together. One of our friends marinated some food for us the night before. After the beach, we went back to his place to eat. There is something special about sharing food with people. Conversations immediately get more interesting when food is involved. Things come to mind you might have otherwise never thought about.

One of my friends was telling us about a movie script he was writing. He has been working in the film industry as a production assistant for years with the hopes to one day write and produce his own movies. He is one of the funniest people I know, and when he gets his big break, the world will know that too. The script he told us about was hilarious — I almost fell off my seat two times because I was laughing so hard. I hope this movie gets made one day so you can laugh with us too.

The night ended and we all went our separate ways. I drove home with a wonderful feeling in my heart. I did not make any money that day but I felt richer nonetheless. As I listened to music on the drive home, I noticed how lovely the city lights looked. They pierced through the night like glistening yellow gold. I then thought to myself, “If hope could be anything, this is what it would be.”

We all need to rest. Sometimes rest takes the form of quality time with family and friends. Other times rest takes the form of putting our phones away while we curl up with a book and blanket on the couch. Without rest, our work suffers. A tired body loses its heart, and without heart, we have nothing. 

The first step in resting is to cease what we are doing. It is to stop the inner dialogue we have with ourselves — the one where we tell ourselves we are far behind and we must keep going at all costs. Nothing is worth pursuing at all costs. This is what a tyrant would want us to believe. Everything in life is a give and a take. It is a marriage between this and that. It is the intertwining of the yin with the yang.

When we are rested, we become our most perfect selves. We become braver and more courageous. We become more willing to share our gifts with others. The gifts we share also become more profound. They turn us into someone others will want to remember, even after we are gone.

If we are feeling tired, we must not worry. Being tired is an opportunity. It is an opportunity to step back and to appreciate what was and what is. It is an opportunity to stare out into the distance and to marvel at the beautiful future that lies ahead. It is an opportunity to lay down and close our eyes until the sun comes back, which it will. Once we are rested, the sun will rise again. It will tiptoe through our windows just like it always has. It will welcome us with a warm and loving smile. You will see — I promise.

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Questions for Andrew?

If you want to ask me a question for my advice column series, feel free to respond to this email or any others from me, or you can also ask me via Instagram.

Remember sometimes there is no right answer. Sometimes the most important thing is simply being curious enough to ask the question.

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Dear Friend,

There is no newsletter today. I need to take some time to rest this weekend. I will be back with an upcoming newsletter next weekend. It will be worth the wait — I promise.

In the meantime, here is a reminder from one of my favorite poets and writers about the importance of rest:

“Rested we are ready for the world but not held hostage by it, rested we care again for the right things and the right people in the right way. In rest, we reestablish the goals that make us more generous, more courageous, more of an invitation, someone we want to remember, and someone others would want to remember too.”

- David Whyte

I hope everyone has a lovely and restful weekend. I am sending lots of love and light your way. See you soon.

Dear Friend,

Most of us are waiting for something to happen. Maybe we are waiting to fall in love. Maybe we are waiting for our careers to finally take off. Maybe we are even waiting for something to end. Often, we are eager to get to some place other than where we are. We want to be somewhere in the distance — where the grass is greener. However, the grass is usually never greener, but it does fade. It fades and becomes something else because life is constantly changing.

When life does change, we may miss the way it was. We may miss those long and dreadful morning drives or walks to the office, or those hectic family gatherings. We may miss them because even moments like these are finite — we will only travel those streets and see those people a certain amount of times. Every time we do something that is one less time we do it. One day we will do something the final time and we will rarely know when that day comes.

For example, I can barely remember the last time I went swimming in the ocean. I think the last time was when I was living in New York. Some friends and I took a trip on Memorial Day weekend to Montauk — a beach town near the city.

It had been a long week for me. I had just finished an 80 hour work week and felt exhausted. I needed time away from the office so I rented a small house in Montauk with some friends. We took the Friday afternoon train from Penn Station, which is a three-hour trip that takes you from the heart of Manhattan to the end of Long Island. The last stop is Montauk.

The train is usually packed with eager beach goers and you are lucky if you can grab a seat. Unfortunately, we did not find seats so we stood the entire ride. When we arrived, we immediately jumped off the train and grabbed the first cab to our rental — the only good thing about standing the whole way is you are the first one off the train and you can hail a taxi before everyone else.

Montauk is a quant village town on the east end of the Hamptons. The town is full of 18th century wooden buildings. It has one small grocery store and two gas stations. Some of the homes are luxurious and modern, but most are modest.

When we got to our rental, we realized why it was so cheap — it was falling apart at the seams. The flooring of the house made a creaky sound whenever you walked on it and the wood paneling on the walls was splintering apart. Also, there were no utensils or working kitchen appliances. The pictures we saw online did not match the house. Unfortunately, there was no other place we could rent. The weekend was not off to a great start and, if I am being honest, I wanted to go back home. It had been a long day. Grabbing a meal around the corner from my apartment and going to bed early sounded amazing.

To salvage the trip, one of my friends convinced us to walk down to the beach. I went reluctantly. I did not visit Montauk expecting to go to the beach. I simply wanted to get out of the city. When I visited Montauk in the past, I usually did the same things I did in the city, like going out to restaurants or bars. The only difference is there is no constant car honking or congestion in Montauk like in the city, which I loved. I could actually hear myself think here. That is all I wanted on this trip. I wanted a peaceful break from my city life.

As I sat there on the sand, I felt an inner silence. I let the cool, ocean wind caress my face while the sound of the crushing waves soothed my ears. I could hear the fish moving around in the sea — it felt like it was just us there.

All of a sudden, the friend who convinced us to walk down suggested we jump in the ocean. I was hesitant because it was cold and windy that day. I nonetheless went. The ‘jump’ was not an actual jump — it was a prolonged walk made worse by the icy cold water. Despite the fear of hyperthermia, I kept walking until I was shoulders deep in the water. I then plunged my head in the water. I could taste the salt on my tongue. I could feel the seaweed moving through my legs. After a few moments, my body got used to the cold water. I then closed my eyes as I laid back. Suddenly, I felt my thoughts and struggles washing away. My life back in the city seemed like a faraway galaxy. The tension in my body was slowly unraveling. I was letting the ocean do its work. I was relaxing.

Eventually, I stood up and opened my eyes as I looked around. I noticed everyone else was back on the sand. I must have been laying in the water for a few minutes. I took a glance at the ocean behind me and then waddled back. My friends were talking about dinner. One of my friends said they made reservations for us at 8 PM at a restaurant nearby. It was already 7 PM. If we wanted to make the reservation, we would have to get ready soon. As we started walking back, I took one last look at the beach.

It has been over two years since that trip. I never would have guessed I would go that long without seeing the beach again. Had I known, I would have savored that moment more. Maybe I would have stayed at the beach a little longer instead of heading back so soon. Or maybe I would have woken up early to go back again the next day. At the very least, I would have taken a deep breath of that ocean air one last time. I now realize that everything in life is like my last beach trip.

We have no idea when the next time for anything will be. For all we know, today might be the last time we walk in a particular neighborhood. Or it might be the last time we smile at a particular someone. To think otherwise, would be foolish. Nothing is guaranteed, except this moment. Our only ‘real’ choice is to cherish every exchange like it is our last — because it very well might be.

One day we will reminiscence about today. We will long for these opportunities again — opportunities we are casually letting slip away. We will wish we sucked the marrow out of life while we could. Luckily, we still can. There is still some life left. We just have to open our eyes and hearts.

The best way to appreciate life is to remind ourselves of life’s impermanence. It is to remember that every time we see someone that is one less time we see them. It is to remember that every time we go somewhere that is one less time we visit. By doing this, we naturally slow down. Almost like a reflex, we start to truly live.

Maybe you are reluctant to be grateful. Maybe you are in a dull or empty mood because you had a hard work week. Or maybe something in your personal life has left you feeling defeated. I have been there. I know what counting down the days is like. I know the heartbreak that comes with disappointment. However, if you have the free time to read this, remember you are one of the lucky ones. There are at least a billion people on earth who would consider their prayers answered to be you. The kings and queens of our past would have prayed to be you too. You have opportunities and a life they could only dream of. Never forget that.

Podcast

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Questions for Andrew?

If you want to ask me a question for my advice column series, feel free to respond to this email or any others from me, or you can also ask me via Instagram.

Remember sometimes there is no right answer. Sometimes the most important thing is simply being curious enough to ask the question.

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Dear Friend,

Beauty is one of the most powerful forces in the world. Beauty can lift us up when we are feeling down — it can rejuvenate us when we feel we cannot go on anymore. Beauty is what makes this magical journey we are on undeniably worth it.

Imagine having a bad day or something going wrong. Then imagine breaking that monotony or struggle with the sound of the birds chirping outside. Or imagine that a loved one suddenly calls you to tell you a funny story and you start laughing together. Just imagine something beautiful — anything. In all likelihood, that beautiful moment will take you out of your slump. It will pick you back up when you are feeling low.

Last weekend I was upset about the newsletter not performing as well as I had hoped — it had a low open rate and it received fewer likes than usual. In the long run, these metrics are not that important, and even though I knew this, it still hurt. It hurt pouring my heart into something and it falling short.

In the past, performance metrics used to affect me a lot — the former lawyer in me is partly to blame — but I have become better at handling the stress of sharing work online. I realize a single post or piece of writing is not going to define me and that every experience is an opportunity to learn — it is an opportunity to learn about what might have went wrong and to do better next time. This frame of mind has helped me immeasurably, but it is only one piece of the puzzle.

I constantly need to remind myself that happiness is found along the way to our destination — not when we get there. We will miss out on most of life if we are only doing things to get a certain outcome or to reach a certain goal. The majority of life is the journey from over here to over there. Only a small fraction of life lies at the end of the road. Once we get to the finish line, we will soon set a new goal. Because of this, the sense of joy that comes after accomplishing something is short-lived. Lasting happiness can only be had by finding fulfillment before something happens; not because something happened.

Real happiness is found by paying attention to the beauty that is already around us. It is found by closing our eyes while the wind outside caresses our skin. It is found by taking a rejuvenating, deep breath and remembering how lucky we are to be here. It is found by being grateful for the opportunities we have — most especially, the opportunity to make the most of this marvelous adventure we call life.

When I was feeling discouraged about the newsletter last week, I decided to put my phone and computer away while I went on a walk outside. During the walk, I noticed how beautiful the palm trees around me were. I live in Southern California and there are palm trees everywhere. They are so abundant you take them for granted if you live here — you might not even notice them. This time was different because I did notice them. I noticed how the color of their leaves reminded me of a lemon lime. I noticed how the leaves waving back and forth from the nearby ocean calmed the deepest parts of me. Finally, I noticed a bird singing on one of the leaves. It was like they were singing a song just for me. A song we both knew all along. A song we were born knowing the lyrics to. At that moment, I thought to myself, “If Hope could make a noise, this is what it would sound like.”

After walking for a few minutes, I sat down on a nearby bench so I could take everything in. I took a deep breath and felt my problems slowly washing away. I realized that no matter the setbacks we are faced with there is always something beautiful pushing right back — something better and stronger, something infinite. All we have to do is remember that this something is here. It is always by our side.

Beauty is all around us as long as we are willing to look for it. If we do look for beauty, we will be amazed by its power. If our spark has gone out, beauty will light another spark for us — one we forgot was there. The struggles and problems we encounter will not seem so bad anymore. We will realize we already have so much. Maybe we will even realize we already have what we are looking for.

How do we find beauty in everything? We find beauty by realizing that, no matter what happened or will happen, there is an invincible force both within us and outside of us. This force is like a gorgeous and endless summer — a summer that will shine bright in both the rain and snow. A summer that will shine bright regardless of where we go.

Podcast

To listen to new and previous podcast episodes, click here.

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Questions for Andrew?

If you want to ask me a question for my advice column series, feel free to respond to this email or any others from me, or you can also ask me via Instagram.

Remember sometimes there is no right answer. Sometimes the most important thing is simply being curious enough to ask the question.

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If you enjoyed today’s newsletter, please remember to leave a like (there is a small heart button down below).

Dear Friend,

The ability to hold on, just enough, is an art. It is an art we all must practice. 

Holding on is not a bad thing. Sometimes we need to hold on before we are ready to let go. Sometimes refusing to take the next step protects us from the pain we are not ready for yet. Sometimes we need to deny that we should move on from someone or something before we can see that we have already left them. 

Letting go prematurely can be just as detrimental as holding on for too long. If we let go before the time is right, we may miss wonderful opportunities that are just beginning to blossom. For example, imagine the struggling artist or entrepreneur who has been working hard for many years and is thinking of quitting. Shortly thereafter, this artist or entrepreneur may get their ‘big break.’ Often, the big revelations and tipping points come when we are at the brink; they come when we are on the verge of letting go but do not.

In the deepest parts of our hearts, we know the future that awaits needs us to hold on, at least to some degree. Some of the most beautiful things are created by people who hold on to a mission; to a commitment to leave the world better than they found it. In essence, to make and do truly wonderful things, we must give ourselves permission to continue down the path that is calling us, even if we are unsure of where it is leading.

Maturity is measured by our understanding that holding on and letting go are two sides of the same coin. It is to understand that sometimes we must say no to the next step before we can say yes. Letting go before we are ready is like entering a world we are not yet equipped for.

Holding on becomes destructive when we are too rigid; when we are determined to keep things the way they are or to turn them back into something they no longer want to be. To hold on effectively, we must accept that the degree to which we hold on and the things we hold on to are subject to change; they are subject to the seasonality of our lives. We must be willing to pivot or modify our trajectory depending on who and what we find along the way.

At certain times and to a certain extent, we all need to hold on. Sometimes we need to follow a particular road until the end, or at least for a little longer. This is how some of the most marvelous things are made. This is how we grow into the people we are destined to become. The key to life is to learn how to hold on, just enough.

Questions for Andrew?

If you want to ask me something, feel free to respond to this email or any others from me, or you can also ask me via Instagram. In my next newsletter, I will be resuming the Dear Andrew series.

Remember sometimes there is no right answer. Sometimes the most important thing is simply being curious enough to ask the question.

Links

To listen to new and previous podcast episodes, click here.

For a copy of my poetry book, click here.

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When used properly, words can be a source of solace and nourishment. When used improperly, words can feel like an attack on our souls.

Dear Friend,

Often, the word regret is only used when we claim we have none. Most of us are reluctant to admit we have regret because the general consensus is that regret is something to be ashamed of or it is something we should strive to live without. However, regret is simply the acknowledgement that we are all human. We are all creatures who are subject to mistakes and shortcomings. At its core, regret is a promise to never make the same mistakes again.

To create a better tomorrow, we must learn from our past. We must recognize our failures and strive to grow from them. The first step towards doing this is to admit regret. It is to find the lessons in our past so we can better shape the present and future.

Regret is one of the most challenging things to admit we have because many of us believe regret and happiness cannot coexist. We believe that wishing for a different past means we will become dissatisfied with the present. We believe that it will make us wish to be somewhere other than where we are. However, this is a youthful interpretation of regret.

When used maturely, regret is a catalyst that makes the present more vivid. It allows us to step back and to take a bird’s eye view of where we are. It reminds us that every moment with a loved one is one less time we will see them and that we must not take any more moments with them for granted.

To fully appreciate life, we sometimes have to shed a tear for what has passed. Take the doctor or lawyer who was busy working while their child was growing up. They might give anything to go back and rekindle those moments. Regret can motivate them to not make that same mistake with their grandchildren. Or take the person who said hurtful comments to a loved one and now regrets what they said. Regret can remind them to make amends and to hopefully never say those same things to anyone else.

Therefore, when embraced, regret is a powerful yet heartbreaking force for change. Like a potent spice, regret wakes us up; it opens our eyes to missed opportunities, and it makes us see, with clear vision, where we are and where we are going. However, we must be cautious. We must not let our regret debilitate us. We must not let it stop us from carrying on. We must use regret as a means to become larger and more generous than ever before. We must use regret as a guiding light to leave the world more beautiful than we found it.

Questions for Andrew?

If you want to ask me something, feel free to respond to this email or any others from me, or you can also ask me via Instagram.

Remember sometimes there is no right answer. Sometimes the most important thing is simply being curious enough to ask the question.

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Dear Friend,

Happiness is not found in some imaginary place far away. Happiness is found where we are right now. It is standing right in front of us hoping we notice it.

Happiness that occurs because something happened is short-lived; it is fleeting, it goes away. Because shortly thereafter, we usually set new goals for ourselves. As humans, we are made this way; our eyes are always looking at a never-ending horizon. 

For the most part, this human tendency is good. It is how we discover things, and it is how we meet people we never would have otherwise. But this habit of always looking for the ‘next thing’ also comes with a catch. The catch is that true fulfillment cannot be had by arriving in some magical place. There is no magical place except the place where we are now. 

The Brazilian novelist, Paulo Coelho, once said, 

“It's the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.”

What Coelho meant is that real excitement and meaning comes in the steps between not having a dream and having your dream come true. Essentially, they come from the magical chapters in the middle of our story. Because like any good story, these are the chapters that create suspense and wonder.

If we want to find true joy, we should try to maintain this suspense and wonder throughout our lives. We should try to remember that the end is not, and can never be, the best part. The best part is the journey we are on now; the journey where we are trying to make magic and dreams come true because we believe they can come true.

This does not mean that accomplishing things does not feel nice, because it does. It feels great accomplishing things we knew we would, and it feels even better accomplishing things we never knew we could. But these feelings do not last very long. Maybe we will feel good for a few minutes or, if we are lucky, a few hours. Soon after, we will set new goals and dreams for ourselves, which will set us off on another journey in our never-ending story.

In light of this, the real happiness we are looking for might be found by simply remembering that it occurs before something happens, not because something happened. In other words, happiness is when we realize the best chapters of a story are the ones in between the beginning and the end. It is when we realize these chapters are already happening.

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Recommendations

What I am reading -

This week I read The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton.

The last time I read this book was in 7th grade, which was over 16 years ago. I remember being assigned it in school and I loved it so much I read it twice, which meant a lot because as a kid I was not an avid reader. I think this was the first book that showed me reading could be enjoyable.

The book is a coming-of-age story about a boy, named Ponyboy, who grows up on the Eastside of town and who feels like an outsider because of it. The story involves him learning that people are more similar than he thought, no matter where they come from. One of the most memorable parts for me is when Ponyboy asks a girl from the Westside whether she can see the sunset from where she lives and she tells him that she can. He then thinks to himself,

“It seemed funny to me that the sunset she saw from her patio and the one I saw from the back steps was the same one. Maybe the two different worlds we lived in weren't so different. We saw the same sunset.”

What I am listening to -

This week I listened to Tim Ferris’ podcast episode #503 with Walter Isaacson.

Walter is the author of Leonardo da Vinci; Steve Jobs; and his new book The Code Breaker: Jennifer Doudna, Gene Editing, and the Future of the Human Race.

After listening to this episode, I felt very hopeful about our future. Walter explains how we are on the verge of experiencing a scientific revolution, much like the internet revolution that preceded it. On top of that, Tim and Walter talk about curiosity and they explore the seemingly blurred line between the arts and sciences.

Links

To listen to my latest podcast episode, click here.

For a copy of my poetry book, click here.

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Dear Friend,

The ability to let go is an art. It is an art we all must practice. Often, we are reluctant to let go and we only use the phrase when things go wrong.

But letting go does not mean things went wrong. Letting go is the natural and inevitable outcome of caring for the people and things we find along the way. 

Sometimes life is suppose to unfold in this way to show us what we never knew. Sometimes we need to experience someone or something to learn they are not for us. Sometimes this is the first step towards finding the people and things that are for us.

Often, when places crumble or people go, they leave behind ashes. And from these ashes something new is born. Something that is just learning to walk. Something that is beautiful and unimaginable. Something we never knew could even be something.

However, like any art, turning ashes into something new is hard work. It is one of the most difficult arts to master. Most of us are reluctant to practice. Most of us do not want to pick up the brush again. Because to paint something new, we must paint over things we still love. This may feel like we are erasing parts of ourselves, parts that have been with us for seemingly forever. It is no easier even when it is our choice, even when we are the ones who decide it is time. But just like a butterfly needs to shed its cocoon, we need to let go of who and what we have outgrown too.

When we feel we might need to let go, we probably do need to let go. There are likely new stories we need to tell and new people we need to meet. First, we must be willing to begin again. We must open our hearts to the next chapter that awaits us. We must take that heartbreaking yet beautiful first step.

Letting go is often painful. When we look back, we may say to ourselves, “If I had only known this one little thing about myself, I could have avoided all of this pain and heartache.” However, sometimes our hearts need to break to discover that one little thing. Sometimes what we are looking for is buried deep inside us. Sometimes we need to grab a chisel and hammer and chip away at all the rock and dirt to discover what is hidden underneath.

This is the art of letting go. It is the art of becoming the people we are meant to be. It will not be easy. But when the ashes settle, we will realize it is easier than we thought because we have no ‘real’ other choice. We were always destined to shed our cocoon. We were always destined to grow into someone more beautiful than the world ever knew.

Recommendations

What I am reading -

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky.

This is one of my favorite books. It is a coming-of-age story about a boy, named Charlie, going through his freshman year of high school. It is about him figuring out who he is and who he is not and about the people he finds along the way.

We all know what the experience of high school is like. We all know the level of self-exploration and uncertainty that comes along with it. This is why coming-of-age stories resonate with so many of us. Because, no matter our age, we are all still coming-of-age. We are still learning who we are and who we are not. And we are still in the process of becoming the people we are destined to be.

“Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn’t stop for anybody.” - Charlie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

What I am listening to -

A Sad Song About a Girl I No Longer Know by Bedside Kites.

I have been playing this song frequently for the past few months and I have done a lot of writing with it in the background. It is the kind of song you want to sing out loud with your eyes closed and the windows rolled down.

Links

To listen to my latest podcast episode, click here.

For a copy of my poetry book, click here.

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Dear Friend,

I have been thinking about the word courage lately. I have been thinking about what it really means.

If we take a look at the literary root of this word, we will find it comes from the French word cœur, meaning heart.

Essentially, courage is our willingness to follow our hearts and the feelings that accompany them. It is our willingness to feel the things we already feel, or maybe the things we are afraid to feel, as deeply as we can.

The French philosopher Albert Camus used to say to himself “live to the point of tears.” What he meant by this is that to truly live we must make ourselves vulnerable, we must open our hearts even if this means they may get broken.

To experience all the wonders of life, we must accept that our hearts will break at some point along the way. Heartbreak simply means we cared about things we had no control over. The only way to avoid heartbreak is to avoid caring. Unfortunately, we sometimes take this less courageous path.

For example, it is not hard to imagine the inner artist who becomes a doctor or lawyer because they are scared of failing at their art. Or maybe the person who says no to the possibility of falling in love because they are scared of falling out of love. Or maybe the person who holds back on getting a dog because they are scared of saying goodbye one day.

If you are or have ever been an artist or in love with a person or pet, then you know these things are worth experiencing despite the vulnerabilities that accompany them. Because as the old sage Alfred Tennyson once said, “it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”

So, in light of all this, the word courage is simply the realization that we have no ‘real’ other choice but to follow our hearts. Because a life without love is no life at all. And, even though we are scared, we know this is the path we must follow. We know we must embrace our fears. We know we must “live to the point of tears.”

Book Recommendation

I recently read The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. This book had me crying at multiple points throughout it. It is a heartbreaking yet beautiful story about a young girl who falls in love, even though she knows she will have to give up that love one day.

The book is a testament to courage and following your heart despite the vulnerabilities that accompany it. Because, as one of the characters in the book eloquently says, “You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world. . . but you do have some say in who hurts you.”

Disclaimer: this book may break your heart and it may also show you that the human heart is bigger than you ever knew.

Updates

I recently posted Episode 10 of the podcast (titled “Letting Go”). In the episode, I discuss my past experience of being a corporate finance lawyer in New York City and my process of quitting that job.

To listen to the podcast, click here.

To see the artwork for today’s newsletter, click here.

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