go through the motions

People will often tell you, "Don't just go through the motions."

They're wrong. (Sometimes.) There are some things where going through the motions can keep a ritual alive.

For example, there are days where I really don't want to sit down and meditate in the morning. I lie to myself and think, "I'll find some time to sit during the day." I won't.

However, if I negotiate myself to go through motions (take a few deep breaths, sit in an upright posture, and pay attention to my mind for just one minute) I'm better for it. Tomorrow, I'll keep the streak alive and maybe this time give myself the full session that I know that I need every morning.

This can apply to other things, too.

You might tell yourself that you can't really dive into this hairy project that you've been avoiding because you need an uninterrupted hour, a quiet morning, or a full day to really hack away at it. You're wrong. Go through the motions. Make a little progress; reduce a little bit of friction; store up a little momentum for the time where you can make a big push.

Today, what things can benefit from you going through the motions?

watch the votes

A month ago, Senator Jeff Flake took the floor and said, "Mr. President, I rise today to say 'enough'." His impassioned speech won him much praise. One Democratic Representative tweeted, "Dear Senator @JeffFlake: Welcome to the #Resistance."

That same day, Jeff Flake voted to continue to condone forced arbitrations by preventing a new rule from the consumer bureau from rolling out which would have allowed for class actions to put pressure on misbehaving companies.

Trump degrades every institution that he comes into contact with: our electoral process, the executive, the legislature, our judicial system, and so on. Dignity in these places is important, but it is never enough. One of the scariest parts of the current political moment is that it makes dignified politics a smoke screen for policies that steer us in the wrong direction. Trump's depressing absurdity normalizes already awful politics.

To wit, a politics of decency with no substance is not good politics. So when we see Republican actors gather enough decency to object to certain parts of the wrecking ball that is President Trump, we can't forget to watch the votes. When Republicans enter the floors of Congress to cast their votes for the tax bill, watch the votes. They say more than words ever will.

intensity is a good thing

Last night my family played a game called The Resistance: Avalon. If you've ever played Mafia, it is kind of like that.

When my family plays, it can be an exhausting adventure to finish the game. We're an intense group of people and even those among us who fashion themselves laid back can really get into the game. People get heated in a harmless way and sometimes we really need that in our lives. Though after one or two rounds of this game I'm spent and need a break, it's fun to feel the energy in the room during and after the game.

There are times when intensity needs to be dialed back a bit. However, intensity is a good thing. It's what drives passionate and committed people and often what makes things happen.

Growing up and even now, I recognize a weird pressure for us to be engaged but not intense. We have to walk this tight-rope and not scare people off during our discussions. Sometimes, though, intensity is what you need. Many times, it's what I need to push through to a breakthrough, so I'm going to try to embrace my own intensity more often.

master, steal, forget

I'm in the early stages of my life and my career. Though there is some anxiety about what my next steps might look like, it is, overall, an incredible opportunity to be intentional about how I want to build my life.

One way that I've been thinking about just how to build things is asking three questions:

1) What do I want to master myself?
2) What can I steal from other people?
3) What can I forget altogether?

I should master the instruments that are essential to my personal and professional life. I might put things like meditation, staying present with people when I'm around them, writing, and critical reading in this category. These are the kinds of things that reward deep work, play, and presence.

Anything that doesn't benefit from my own careful attention, I should steal. Just find a trusted expert and run with the knowledge. They've done the work and I should benefit from their craft.

If it's not something I should master or steal, I should just forget about it.

Learning to differentiate between these three categories can save you a lot of time and make you better. Maybe you're trying to master something you should forget altogether. Maybe you thought you could steal something that you really need to master. And so on. The point is that the three questions can help you redirect your energy to where it needs to be.

flexing a new muscle

Years ago, I started writing letters to people. I would solicit people through Facebook. Most of the time, it would be people close to me but I often people I hadn't talked to in a long time would ask for a letter. I bought a great fountain pen and luxurious paper and made a habit of writing letters.

Later, I started to write my family members letters on their birthdays. I generally have tried to use those letters to reflect on what I admire about the person who has just made another revolution around the sun. Even though I have deep relationships with my family members, my muscle of direct appreciation was still weak. The letters helped me learn how to flex it in a generous way.

In the last few years, my family has solidified a new tradition. We ask whoever's birthday it is to share one word that summarizes their last year and a piece of advice they would pass along. It's a great way to come together and reflect on how far that person has come and support their next steps at the same time.

When Asha moved to San Francisco, she got to become part of this tradition. The first time, she was understandably a little nervous about it, and my brother came up with an idea to stall for time, boost her confidence, and shower her with love all once: we would go around the table and share a memory we have with the person that year. Now, the sharing of memories is a part of the birthday tradition.

The birthday letters and the birthday tradition are enriching experiences for many reasons. However, I've been dwelling on the value of not just telling someone that you love or care for them, but what you find so worth loving and caring about. During these holidays of community find some time to express that to the important people in your life. If you have to make up a tradition or bring back an old form of communication, do it. I promise, it will reward you over and over.

Nana's red tin

When my grandmother would come to visit, she would often have two things in tow. Nana ran a small bookstore in West Virginia, and made a habit of bringing books for each of her grandchildren. My grandmother was a much better version of Amazon's "You might also like..." feature and she's the reason I spent many hours curled up with a good book during my childhood.

Besides the books, Nana might have a red tin. The red tin was circular, much wider than tall and had white writing on the outside. The red paint was worn and scratched, an unpainted surface peaking through at points. Like a good wine, it got better with age. I couldn't tell you one word of that writing because I would always be so excited to see what was inside. It might be brownies, lemon bars, or what mom tells me were "go to school" cookies (soft chocolate cookies with icing on top). It didn't matter what was inside. We just know it was going to be a real treat, because what was inside was quality.

Today is Black Friday, and millions of people will buy stuff churned out by our consumptive society that will almost certainly be temporary and soon disposed. Nana's red tin was a permanent, beloved fixture in our lives. Through the care that went into what was inside, it became a talisman for the family. These days, I think we need to take extra effort to build through ritual talismans like Nana's red tin and then shepherd them through our lives.

grateful living

I already shared this video, but some things are too good to share just once. And on a day with a theme of gratitude, I'll be reflecting on these words:

There’s something we know about everyone we meet in the world. And that is that all of us want to be happy.

By experiencing, by becoming aware, that every moment is a given moment, as we say. It’s a gift.

You haven’t earned it. You haven’t brought it about in any way.

You have no way of assuring that there will be another moment given to you.

Grateful living — that’s the most valuable thing that can ever be given to us.

We have to stop. We have to get quiet. And when you stop, then the next thing is to look.

You look. You open your eyes. You open your ears. You open your nose. You open all your senses for this wonderful richness that is given to us.

Whatever life offers to you in that present moment.

If you take this opportunity, go with it.

Stop.

Look.

Go.

That’s all.

does it haunt?

I submitted my first brief last week for a written arbitration in the Costco case the Impact Fund works on. Though I didn't write large portions of the brief -- much of it was pulled from a previous claim by the woman we were representing -- I did get to author significant pieces of it.

One question, prompted by a Radio Atlantic episode featuring Ta-Nehisi Coates, was top of mind as I was drafting: Does it haunt?

Here's TNC talking about this idea:

I always say that when I'm trying to write, I want all my facts and all my logic to be correct, in terms of the argument. But the argument should haunt. The argument should bother you. You should feel some type of way. You shouldn't just like, finish the piece, and say "Oh, that guy was right" and go on with the rest of the day. . . There should consequences for the reader.

Around the same time, I finished both seasons of Stranger Things. I had finally gotten around to watching S1 and loved it, only to realize that S2 would come only days later. I finished the most recent season in a bingeful day. The story haunts. It lingered with me for days.

I think this question, "Does it haunt?", can be put to a number of our endeavors. If it doesn't haunt, can you make it so? And if you can't, is it worth doing?

a brief argument against centrism

I consider myself on the left. That means things like pursuing single payer, meaningful commitments to public education and infrastructure, robustly responding to the threat of climate change, clawing back to a sane foreign policy, admitting the negative influence of "capitalism" on the lives of many and of money in politics, and so on.

There are a lot of people that would sign onto these projects but don't for the sake of political expediency. The basic thought: pursuing a truly progressive agenda isn't possible given the politics of today. Instead, they insist, we must slowly and carefully push the country to the left.

There's some merit to that strategy. However, I can't shake the feeling that the left negotiates with itself while the right consolidates political power and owns the rhetorical space. Gun rights, climate change, national security, health care, etc. all feel like spaces where we debate on the terms of the right. But we've seen that actually advocating for the strong position can make a difference. For example, single payer is now a surprisingly popular idea.

That is, I think, in part what the appeal of Bernie Sanders was in 2016, and why he remains popular today. He unapologetically offers a progressive agenda. Of course, some degree of pragmatism is necessary for implementation. However, we don't need to tie our shoelaces together at the beginning of the race.

To the detriment of the country and their own political power, the Democratic Party has fought tooth and nail to remain the centrist's party. The Trump years are not the time to offer a restrained political vision for America. He didn't. We don't need to either. We can do better.

earning the title again

I've published not a thing on this blog since March. Life got in the way: I graduated law school, took the bar, started my first job, and got engaged. But I also let life get in the way of writing instead of integrating writing into my life. I know that writing is an integral way for me to reflect on the moment and sharpen my thinking. I like to call myself a writer, but I haven't been earning the title. It's expired.

This must change.

Today, I'm setting myself to the task of publishing something to the site every day for three months.

I've giving myself a number of exits and caveats on this daily road. After 10 days, I can quit, or continue with one "skip" a week. At the month and two month markers, I can quit.

Anything counts. I just want to show up again and again. And again.

A note to email subscribers: after this post, you'll recieve a weekly digest of posts as I do not believe my words have earned daily pride of place in your inbox (yet). You can subscribe to the digest here.

A teaser for this week: posts will include reflecting on both my greatest success and one of my greatest failures.