What’s your advice for people on how to live their best life now? Regardless of where they are in life or what aspirations they have. How do you find enjoyment in your daily life when things get stagnant?

-Michelle

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Hey Michelle-

It’s great that you asked about finding fulfillment in your everyday life, along with your question about future aspirations, because the two are inextricably connected and it’s unfortunately common to find people fixated on one to the exclusion of the other: either living for the future, sacrificing their present in the trade-off, or ignoring the future to focus on temporal payoffs, today.

Both extremes are flawed, I would argue, and despite these focuses being cast as zero-sum options, I would argue that if you can figure out how to be happy and fulfilled, today, you’ll be more likely to feel the same in the future. Assuming you’ve done so in a sustainable way, at least.

That sustainability is important, because it means you’re not, for instance, taking out vast lines of credit to fund an over-the-top, consumption-focused lifestyle. It’s possible to power your present by burning your future for fuel, but your future self probably won’t be as happy about that decision.

It’s also possible to strip-mine your present to fund your future, but while investing in your downstream fulfillment and well-being is absolutely a good idea, eschewing enjoyment completely in favor of a theoretical “someday” in which you can finally cash out is likely to leave you psychologically and physically depleted when your reward finally comes; perhaps even to the point where you cannot fully enjoy everything that you worked so hard to achieve.

It’s also important to recognize that “best,” in terms of one’s life but also regarding everything else, will mean something different to every single person on the planet. Taking the time to figure out what best means for you will be fundamental to moving in that direction. Otherwise, it’s very possible to put a lot of effort into getting somewhere, only to realize later that you’ve arrived at someone else’s idea of a good life, not your own.

Something that I find works well for me, in terms of assessing who I am now and where I’d like to go next, is just sitting down and doing nothing for 20 minutes a day.

Some people meditate to achieve the same outcome, others go for a run or perform some other repetitive but focused task. I enjoy those as well, but just sitting and doing literally nothing—no music, no podcasts, no tapping of fingers or feet—forces me to sit with my thoughts, un-entertained and with nothing else to do, in a manner that incentivizes me to reflect, refresh, and address things that are bothering me in a very direct way.

This approach can be quite boring, especially at first, but that’s kind of the point. Setting an alarm and doing absolutely nothing, and having nothing to distract you, gives you no choice but to look inward, sit with your thoughts, and deal with whatever bubbles up to the surface.

I think of it as unspooling my mind, because I usually spend the first half figuring out my current collection of stresses, coming up with solutions and next steps, before then turning my attention to seemingly impractical things: past interactions and experiences, big ideas, questions about life and reality, things that, once elevated to the surface, become immensely valuable, but to which I likely would never have otherwise paid attention.

I know that being told to pause and do less when you’re wanting to move forward and be proactive may seem like a step in the wrong direction, or not a step at all. But think of this process, of looking inward and sorting out who you are now and where you actually want to be, as sharpening your axe before you start chopping at a massive tree. Far better to take that time to prepare, lest you exhaust yourself hacking away at a strong trunk with a dull blade.

I would also suggest that moving toward something concrete can be helpful in alleviating that sense of stagnation; which itself is often the consequence of feeling like you don’t have any real and important near-term goals.

I find that, alongside appreciating the moment and giving myself permission to take things slowly and more intentionally, that setting big, audacious goals, and then breaking those goals into smaller, more achievable pieces, gives me a sense of deliberate movement and progress that can be incredibly satisfying and fulfilling.

This might mean going to the gym more regularly, eating in a particular way, or learning how to use a new piece of software. It might mean saving for a trip, paying off debt, or finding a free event to attend somewhere nearby at least once a week.

For me, this means that I’m pretty much always taking at least one online course, reading a lot of books, pushing myself out the door to be social on a regular basis, and maintaining a selection of habits that are fun and functional, but also growth-oriented. Making dinner for myself and my partner each night, for instance, is something that incentivizes me to learn new recipes and techniques, but it’s also something I get to enjoy for what it is.

Tomorrow is just today for a future version of yourself, and remembering this can help you avoid depleting tomorrow for today, or the other way around.

You can instead build infrastructure in your life—rituals, habits, routines, relationships—that allow you to enjoy now, while also consistently building toward an enjoyable tomorrow. A process that, at its best, is also enjoyable in that it’s challenging, pushes you to grow, and provides the satisfaction of accomplishment on a regular basis.

One final point, building off something to which I alluded, above: learning to appreciate the little things along the way is one of the better investments a person can make in themselves.

This appreciation can be as simple as looking at a flower and just marveling at its color, its shape, its beauty.

But it can also be predicated on increased understanding, like learning about the mathematical formulae that plants follow at the cellular level and which determines the shape they take; and why it is that we humans consider that shape beautiful.

I find making time for both the instinctual and the intellectual appreciation of the world around me, of other people, and of my own internal processes—body, mind, feelings, everything—ensures that I seldom lack a sense of awe and appreciation for such things.

It also helps me feel like these things are knowable: my ignorance always just a temporary condition if I choose to pursue the requisite knowledge. And that adds a healthy sense of empowerment and capability to what otherwise might be a diminished sense of personal potential within an infinitely large, complex, and remarkable universe.