Mindfulness

Personal growth requires honest assessment of our blind spots, biases, and behavioral patterns that might be holding us back. In my many conversations with strangers, I’ve recently made a conscious effort to listen more and speak less. This seemingly simple shift has proven remarkably powerful for understanding others and, somewhat surprisingly, myself. People reveal extraordinary depths when given adequate space and your attentive silence. Strategic questions help navigate the conversation, but what truly matters is creating space for others to express themselves—and most people will naturally fill conversational gaps if you allow them.

Forming habits is surprisingly easy. Breaking them is often less difficult than we initially believe, with notable exceptions like nicotine addiction, which is notoriously challenging to overcome. I read Tiny Habits by BJ Fogg, which despite its verbosity, presents a solid core concept: begin with small, manageable actions and gradually build until behaviors become automatic. The inverse applies to breaking habits—quitting abruptly frequently fails, while incremental reduction often proves more effective.

Being present means consciously inhabiting the current moment—experiencing life as it unfolds without the constant intrusion of past regrets or future anxieties. This state of attentional presence forms a cornerstone of numerous spiritual and philosophical traditions, from Buddhism and mindfulness practice to Stoicism. It’s also foundational to evidence-based therapeutic approaches like cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), which teaches patients to anchor awareness in the present rather than spiraling into maladaptive thought patterns.

There’s a trope in New York City that you can identify tourists from their propensity to walk around staring up at the tall buildings. This isn’t necessarily meant to be interpreted literally, but rather it’s more about the fact that the tourists are fully present—taken aback by everything to look at, much of which is in the upward direction depending on where you are in the city.

I’m learning to get better at being bored. There have been times when I actively avoided boredom, in particular in my childhood I thought of boredom as a bad thing. I still tend to fill free time with “activities” more than I should. My go-to boredom fillers include reading, writing, taking walks, watching TV or movies (as much as I hate to admit it), and occasionally a video game (which, unlike TV, requires some degree of active participation).

The most challenging relationships I’ve experienced, both personal and professional, have involved highly neurotic individuals. By neuroticism, I mean a tendency toward emotional instability—characterized by inconsistency, excessive anxiety, disproportionate reactions to minor issues, and sometimes aggressive responses to everyday stressors. Understanding Neuroticism # Neuroticism exists on a spectrum. A moderate level of concern about potential problems can be productive—it helps us prepare and plan. But when these feelings become overwhelming or trigger reactions that damage relationships, they cross into problematic territory.

Life is a series of random walks. Even if you walk the same path every day (in the literal sense), your individual steps on every walk you take are essentially random, and for the most part you aren’t even conscious of them because this is handled by muscle memory. When I say the steps are random, what I mean is that if you could precisely measure every step you take—where your foot lands, how much force you apply with your individual muscles—the data would reveal a pattern from a statistical perspective, but each individual step would follow a normal random distribution. In fact, research on human gait variability confirms this, with studies showing that step-to-step fluctuations follow statistical patterns characteristic of complex systems.

One harmful myth perpetuated by the various cultural medias is the idea that there exists some people in the world who have it easy, and aren’t struggling their way through life. I’ve always thought of myself as someone who has mostly managed to fail upwards, which is probably the best outcome anyone can hope for. Even the billionaires claim to be having a real tough time getting through every day (although my advice to them would be to retire and let someone else get some money, because you guys have enough and at this point you’re just greedy).

I get asked all the time by strangers, something to the effect of “Can I pet your dog?”. People see her, think she’s cute, and feel a sudden strong urge to touch her. Some people will just reach out without asking, but the majority of people ask first. My pup at the Union Square dog run in Manhattan