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    #221 How to appease the worrier mind

    How likely is the scenario you’re worrying about?
    And how impactful or life-threatening is that scenario?
    Now, how much mental bandwidth is worrying about it taking up?
    Are your worries proportionate to the actual danger?
    Should you be worrying at all?
    If not, could you stop right away?


    Of course, you and I both know that’s not always how it works, my friend.

    Because even if we know rationally that we shouldn’t worry, the worrier mind tends to scoff at answering rational questions.

    Yet today, I had an insight: maybe those questions aren’t meant to dismiss the worrier mind at all but empower the sane mind, temporarily suppressed and overpowered?

    Maybe they can provide enough encouragement to make the sane mind stand up for itself again and say, “Enough is enough.”

    Maybe that way, the sane mind will put the worrier mind back in its place, reminding it of the only task where it truly shines: protect us from life-threatening risks.

    Or maybe not. I don’t know, my friend. You’ve seen me: I’m just another human with good days and bad—productive days and lazy. Days of irrational fears and worry, and days of relaxing, dreaming, and visioning.

    But this I do know: worrying too much has never improved my mood, and I doubt it has ever improved yours.

    So if you’ve had an overactive worrier mind lately, trying won’t hurt.

    Let me know how it goes.

  • #456 Slow and steady, one day at a time

    All bad things happen all at once, and you keep going.

    Slow and steady, one day at a time.

    Nothing happens, and you keep going.

    Slow and steady, one day at a time.

    All good things happen all at once, and you keep going.

    Slow and steady, one day at a time.

    All the good things can’t happen if you don’t keep going when the bad things happen, and if you don’t keep going when nothing happens.

    Slow and steady.

    One day at a time.

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    #40 Pushing a destructive frontier

    5 billion years ago, our solar system didn’t exist in its current form – but the laws of our universe already held the promise that one day, an earth like ours would revolve around a sun.

    That earth has been revolving around the sun long before any human started observing planetary orbits and realized we’re not the center of the universe.

    Animals, plants, mountains and oceans have instinctively dealt with the law of gravity long before an apple fell on Newton’s head.

    Energy and mass have been two sides of the same coind long before Einstein proposed a formula for mass-energy equivalence (E = mc²).

    Knowledge: invented or discovered?

    More importantly: what do we do with all that knowledge – and the power it give us?

    100 years ago, nuclear weapons didn’t exist yet – but the atomic building blocks and reactions making it possible have always been hidden inside the earth and the universe.

    50 years ago, the internet wasn’t “invented” yet – but the concept of an internet has always been possible.

    Today, general artificial intelligence don’t exist yet. Yet it seems that the laws of the universe have always made developing artificial life a possibility – even if it means biological life becomes obsolete.

    Do we pursue power
    persistently pushing the frontier
    even if we run the risk
    that we destroy everything we hold dear?

    Lukas Van Vyve
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    #218 The United States of “If I wanted, I could”

    The path toward self-awareness isn’t always pleasant. 

    Take yesterday, when I realized that in many cases, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”

    That unappealing realization triggered a cascade of even more unappealing questions.

    Would I rather mess around with small blog posts instead of becoming a skilled writer crafting coherent arguments?

    Would I rather learn about a million different strategies to grow a newsletter instead of actually spreading the word and getting more people to read my newsletter?

    Would I rather learn how to learn a language than actually learn a new language?

    Is the frustration of unrealized potential also a huge source of comfort in my life?


    I’m not sure if I should be happy with that realization. 

    Maybe realizations aren’t even supposed to make me happy.

    But even if they were, it doesn’t matter. 

    Because look: here I am, writing another insight about it.

    Another Tiny Trust Builder, proving that every day, I am one step closer to renouncing my citizenship of the United States of “If I wanted, I could.”

    Another reminder to myself and you, my friend, one I’ll repeat until the bitter end: actions overrule thoughts.

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