Morning

I'm learning to relax.

Here in Portland, we have an abundance of cafes serving some of the best coffee in the country. As a single man living alone with disposable income and a computer-based career that goes wherever I want, I frequently find myself in cafes during the week to escape the monotony of my home offce. But I've realized, in the past few months, the novelty has worn off and it's become more a compulsive habit to leave the house to work than a premeditated occasional treat.

By the end of the traditional 9-5 workday, I'm an exhausted mess. I've spent a fair bit of time unnecessarily commuting between coffee shops and paying their rent getting grossly overcaffienated. And, simultaneously, I recognize that when I'm at cafes, allegedly to escape the lonely monotony of my apartment, I don't tend to engage with others on account of being immersed in my work.

I'm resigning to change this behavior, starting this week. I'm going to try not going to cafes to work anymore, at all. Working from coffee shops has been a part of my identity since I was in college. I wonder what miracles lie on the other side.

I'm learning to relax.

I'm sitting working on my computer in a cafe. There's an old man, perhaps 75 years, sitting at an adjacent table. He wears a beige cardigan and dons a white beard on his otherwise bald head. His glasses are delicate and he leans an intricately carved cane against the table.

I spend so much time in cafes—hours per day—but rarely stop to think what will become or where I'll end up. I'm generally self-absorbed, wondering when I'll find a lover or a new career or a shimmer of elation in a sea of confusion. But, at the end of all of it, we're all alone. The man sitting alone at the cafe.

If only we realized sooner that all our attachments and confusion and jealousy and emotion and everything we experience every single day will one day inevitably and quietly ... end.

You've probably heard of new age ideas like the Law of Attraction, books like Think and Grow Rich, and movies like The Secret and What the Bleep Do We Know?. All of them share a common idea: That what we think inevitably becomes our reality.

We all know from experience that wishing an outcome into existence doesn't bring about the outcome. Who hasn't wished for more money, a new and lovely partner, or a more fit body? And who hasn't been disappointed when nature didn't deliver?

But I'd like to posit that although the Law of Attraction can be interpreted as new age hullabaloo, there is a grain of truth in the idea that is nearly as powerful if applied.

While our beliefs don't shape results directly, they do have a substantial effect on the action we take toward our desired results. If you believe you'll succeed, you're more likely to spend the time and energy required for success than if you believe you'll fail.

And at every step along our path toward our goal, we'll be confronted with bits of feedback which will further inform our belief. Progress strengthens our positive beliefs about our ability to succeed, which breeds more constructive action, which brings about more success.

So, will sitting around dreaming of a new lover who is yet to manifest bring them knocking on your apartment door? Probably not. But believing your dream can manifest means you're likely to hold yourself in higher regard, take the steps you need to get there, and ultimately find yourself in a scenario closer to where you want to be.

I've been thinking carefully about the meaning of life.

It's a tried concept that there's some inherent meaning to our daily existence. At one end of the spectrum of the discussion there's religious piety. At the other, nihilism.

I've heard the meaning of life is to be happy. To help others. To exist peacefully. These are platitudes that offer no tangible behavior prescriptions.

Instead,

You might say the meaning of life is to be happy. To act according to a set of virtues

With historic wildfires raging across the American West and back-to-back historic hurricanes in the Atlantic, I'm left panicking at the prospect of facing once-in-a-lifetime weather events every year.

But I do realize that, despite the hellish reality we face, there are opportunities for adaptation.

I have a penchant for whimsically leaving the house without cause.

Working remotely, I have the freedom to remain in the comfort of my home for as long as I like. For whatever reason, that's typically only a couple hours.

Today I'm setting the intention to occupy myself here, at home, for the duration of the day. I want to practice disciplining myself to remain in my office, for sake of improving both my productivity as well as my mindful awareness.

I was reading from the book Full Catastrophe Living over the weekend. There was a particular passage about examining the richness in every moment, no matter how mundane the moment might seem.

Of all disciplines subject to needless hurrying, computing is probably the worst. There's a tendency to attempt to complete every task in as little time as possible, without regard for the beauty of the moments during which we're acting.

I wonder whether this tendency of mine to move quickly is a fear that I'll be outmatched by one of my peers. That, if only I go faster, I can hope to retain my position among them.

Slow down. Take inventory of the task. Breathe. Enjoy the process.

The rent is too damn high.

Especially here in Oregon. In Portland, rents were up 34% as of 2016.

Because of this, I've spent a disproportionate amount of my time contemplating whether I should buy a house to insulate my family from the threat of ever-increasing rents.

I called a mortgage broker. I surveyed the local real estate market here in Eugene. There are 1200 square foot houses with list prices greater than $300,000. And don't even ask about Portland, where I could barely afford a shoebox condo next to a freeway.

After seeing the San Francisco Bay Area become unaffordable even for the upper middle class, it's scary to imagine Oregon ending up in the same situation.

But then I realized something.

I don't want to own a house. Ever.

The only reason I want a house is to hedge against rising rents. I don't want to spend my weekends at Home Depot. I don't want to remodel a kitchen. And I really don't want to sink a ton of money into a house.

I like to move around. I like to live nimbly. To know I can call my landlord, pay a lease break fee, and be free to do anything I want.

A house is a prison. At least, for me. It might be a great investment for you. But I'd rather live in a micro-studio for the rest of my life than be stuck because I was afraid of rising rents.

For the past few years I've been frantically saving and investing money.

I feel fortunate that my skills are in demand and permit me to invest a large percentage of my income while still enjoying a pleasant existence today.

But despite this, I find myself feeling insignificant, and blaming the balance of my investment account for my malcontent.

Reading this interview with Derek Sivers made me realize that while owning a nice pile of stocks and bonds makes me feel more financially secure, it will never make me feel more emotionally or spiritually secure.

In the absence of conspicuous consumption and overindulgence, I will not suddenly feel connected to others. I will not, by virtue of my frugality, be generous and noble.

The only way to feel connected and generous is to do generous deeds and to connect with others.

I don't ever want to forget why.

There are so many layers in what I do. From the sales process to the technical work to the administrative work.

It's easy to get caught in a cycle of continuing to do what you've always done without looking up from your work.

It's easy to forget that all this work is a means toward an end and not the end itself.

The end is my family.

The end is a cup of coffee enjoyed in tranquility on my porch.

The end is the cool breeze as I ride my bicycle along the river.

I want to serve others. But I'll serve them better if I serve myself.

Integrity is a virtue.

There are a million ways to make your website convert better. But some of them abuse the visitor and dangle carrots that don't help them.

I can't remember the last time I saw an on-exit popup that made me smile.

It's easy to make a living selling the idea of becoming rich or famous and then not deliver.

It's harder to make a living encouraging someone to do their best and genuinely help them get as far as they can.

I don't want to sell shovels to miners. My vow to my clients is simple: I will always act in your best interest.