Someone said recently that their partner has a simple maxim – in the final analysis after this life is done, the only question you’ll be asked is – did you make the most of your gifts?
It is a beautiful question.
A reminder to do the best we can with what we have where we are.
It starts by explaining the “why” behind Gothic architecture.
Staying in London, take the example of Westminster’s great Gothic church. Its pointed arches and lofty spires give the sense of upward movement. Its wide base adds a feeling of groundedness and solidity. Its fine embellishments like stained glass and carved arches suggest that even on the grandest of scales, no detail is too small to be overlooked.
This style of building emerged in Europe in the 12th and 13th centuries, and is a perfect reflection of the deepest beliefs of Europe in the late middle ages. Medieval architects took for granted that man’s purpose was to journey toward heaven, which is why they built a sense of upward motion into their cathedrals. Yet they also knew that in order to do so, you must stay grounded in your earthly life — and thus they gave their buildings a solid foundation, both functionally and visibly.
Most importantly, however, they believed that beauty has moral power. The designers wanted to create a building that would ennoble and inspire every person who walked in. They filled their churches with painstaking detail so that every aspect offered an encounter with the kind of beauty that draws man toward the divine.
It then makes a powerful point – Whether a building’s designers are conscious of it or not, architecture always tells the story of a culture’s values. That’s why if you want to know what your culture believes today, you should look at what it builds.
In doing so, it examines the difference between architecture in the US vs. Hungary. American cities are designed around the car. Perhaps it means efficiency is valued more than beauty – a result of a mindset focused on productivity.
Prague, on the other hand, looks and feels different – a result of a culture that prioritized beauty, prayer, connection to the past, and staying connected to one’s community.
It ends with a beautiful note.
In an age that claims all beauty is in the eye of the beholder, it’s worth reminding ourselves that architecture is never neutral. In fact, it is arguably the best physical embodiment of what a culture believes and how it lives. It is shaped first by our values, and then reinforces those same values in us.
Next time you go out, be sure to take a close look at your house, your church, your pub, your city. Try to read the values that underlie the physical building. What do you see?
And perhaps more importantly, what would you like to see instead?
I find it useful to contemplate your own insignificance in the universe from time to time.
Maybe one person from any given generation will be remembered a thousand years from now – that is, if humans are lucky to still inhabit the planet a thousand years from now.
For the rest of us, our time here is brief. We might influence a few members of the next generation, perhaps even the one after that, if we’re lucky.
But not much more.
When you sit with that insignificance, it puts everything into perspective.
Nobody outside really cares. The striving, the titles, the noise – all of it fades quickly.
What’s left is you, and your ability to find balance – between striving and equanimity, between contribution and peace.
Because in the final analysis, what counts is simple:
The more I experience life, the more I realize that happiness is a combination of two things – a sense of contribution and a sense of peace.
They can feel like opposing forces.
Contribution pulls us outward – toward action, effort, and usefulness.
Peace pulls us inward – toward acceptance, stillness, and letting go.
But they’re not opposites. They’re complementary.
We’re wired to contribute – to feel useful, to make a difference in some way. Yet peace comes from releasing attachment to outcomes, from not wishing to be someone else, somewhere else, or chasing validation.
Happiness, then, is the balance between the two: where we give ourselves to a cause that’s bigger than us and where we possess the perspective to let the universe unfold as it should.
I was speaking with someone recently who was seeking clarity on the path forward on their career. As we talked through the options ahead, I found myself returning to a simple three part framework I use:
1. Be clear about what you’re solving for.
At any given point, you can only truly optimize for one or two things – factors like learning, balance, growth, compensation, or impact. Clarity here anchors everything else.
Pro tip: Write it down.
Keep a written version you can reference. There’s something about the act of writing that forces clarity. It helps you see what you’re truly solving for versus what just sounds good.
2. Articulate the trade-offs of what you’re solving for.
When you choose to optimize for a few things, you’re implicitly giving up others. That’s not failure, it’s the sign of a good strategy. The key is to know what you’re giving up and make peace with it.
3. Keep re-evaluating every 6-12 months.
What you’re solving for today might not be what you’ll solve for six months from now. It almost certainly won’t be what you’re solving for two years from now. Revisit the equation often.
If you’re clear about what you’re solving for, aware of the trade-offs, and willing to re-evaluate – you’re making thoughtful choices.
There’s a measure on the Apple Watch called VO₂ max that I check from time to time.
VO₂ max is an estimate of cardiovascular health – how efficiently your body uses oxygen during exercise. The Apple Watch measure is not perfectly accurate, but it works as a directional indicator.
Recently, I took a break from my 15-minute morning hill runs for a 2 weeks period – first while recovering from being under the weather, then while traveling.
When I checked again, my VO₂ max had dropped a notch.
Our bodies don’t lie.
Our fitness is just the sum of small, consistent actions – and the absence of them shows up quickly.
The biggest downside of having a phone in our pocket is that it’s a consumption device first and foremost.
It’s always full of media – videos, news, updates, and endless glimpses into what other people are doing or achieving. It’s easy to spend hours scrolling through other people’s lives while ours quietly slips by.
So here’s the reminder I keep coming back to:
Stop reading about or watching what people are doing. Just go do stuff instead.
For every travel post you scroll past, take a trip – even if it’s just to a nearby park or local trail.
For every post about AI tools or “life hacks,” open one and build something useful yourself.
For every headline about health hacks or the latest longevity drug or even every sporting event you watch, go workout.
The feed is infinite. Life isn’t.
For every post you read/video you watch, go do something yourself.
The first principle in personal finance is to spend less than you earn.
Ideally a lot less than you earn.
Once you have savings, you can then decide what you do with them. Ideally, you have some money stashed as an emergency fund should you need more cash. Then you begin investing the rest with the goal of long-term growth. And so on and so forth.
But it begins with spending less than you earn.
That comes from being conscious about your expenses, living simply, and upgrading your lifestyle at a rate much slower than your earnings.
I’ve been enjoying Derek Thompson’s weekly newsletter of late. And he had a great post titled “Whose Cup Are You Filling?“
I am thinking of a game. The rules are simple. Every morning, you have a full pitcher of water and many empty cups. By day’s end, you pour all the water from the pitcher into the cups. The goal: Pour the water into the right cups.
Sounds like a weird game, I know. But there’s a catch. You have been playing this game your whole life. The game is attention. You are the pitcher. The water is your time: your ~17 daily hours of waking consciousness, all your care and focus and feeling. The cups represent everything you pour your thoughts and attention into. They are labeled: WORK, TIKTOK, WIFE, DISHES, EXERCISE, REGRET, PARENTS, ANXIETY, GOD. But, by its nature, water cannot go into two cups simultaneously. When you’re listening to a podcast, you aren’t listening to your husband. When you are thinking about politics, you aren’t thinking about your sister. When you are working, you aren’t praying.
He goes to observe – the internet has a way of assaulting our priorities and entreating us to seek admiration and validation from people we don’t know, will never meet, and don’t even like very much in the first place.
And he ends with – This whole project might sound like a major guilt trip, but I choose to see it differently. Our attention is a unique resource. Bodies degrade, wealth rises and falls, reputations come and go. But attention refreshes daily. The morning’s pitcher is always full. The morning’s cups are always empty. The game begins again, and it’s a game you can win today no matter how many times you’ve lost. So this week I wrote myself a note and taped it to my desk, where I can’t miss it: Whose cup did you fill today?