Month: January 2026

“You are unique, Elio of Earth, and unique can sometimes feel like alone, but you are not alone”. | Ambassador Questa in the movie Elio

Unique can sometimes feel like alone indeed.

Well said.

I saw excerpts from two papers from the National Bureau of Economic Research recently –

• One of them was how about the costs of climate change being borne right now.
  In this paper, we examine several major vectors through which climate change affects US households, including cost increases associated with home insurance claims and increased cooling, as well as sources of increased mortality. Although we consider only a subset of climate costs over recent decades, we find an aggregate annual cost averaging between $400 and $900 per household; in 10 percent of counties, costs exceed $1,300 per household. Costs vary significantly by geography, with the largest costs occurring in some western regions of the United States, the Gulf Coast, and Florida.

• Another was about the economic impact of Brexit
  This paper examines the impact of the UK’s decision to leave the European Union (Brexit) in 2016. Using almost a decade of data since the referendum, we combine simulations based on macro data with estimates derived from micro data collected through our Decision Maker Panel survey. These estimates suggest that by 2025, Brexit had reduced UK GDP by 6% to 8%, with the impact accumulating gradually over time. 

As with any analysis that involves so many variables, the trends matter more than the absolute numbers.

Reading the summary of both papers made me think about how complex systems change. We can debate interpretations endlessly, but the underlying forces continue to operate regardless of our opinions.

Reality doesn’t care if you agree.

Kevin Kelly shared a beautiful post the other day.

When I was in my twenties I would hitchhike to work every day. I’d walk down three blocks to Route 22 in New Jersey, stick out my thumb and wait for a ride to work. Someone always picked me up. I had to punch-in for my job as a packer at a warehouse at 8 o’clock sharp, and I can’t remember ever being late. It never ceased to amaze me even then, that the kindness of strangers could be so dependable. Each day I counted on the service of ordinary commuters who had lives full of their own worries, and yet without fail, at least one of them would do something kind, as if on schedule. As I stood there with my thumb outstretched, the question in my mind was simply: “How will the miracle happen today?”

He goes on to share wonderful experiences from his travel and experience-rich life, many of which involved incredible acts of kindness from strangers. He explains how gratitude and faith have become synonymous to him over time.

I’ve slowly changed my mind about spiritual faith. I once thought it was chiefly about believing in an unseen reality; that it had a lot in common with hope. But after many years of examining the lives of the people whose spiritual character I most respect, I’ve come to see that their faith rests on gratitude, rather than hope. The beings I admire exude a sense of knowing they are indebted, of resting upon a state thankfulness. They recognize they are at the receiving end of an ongoing lucky ticket called being alive.

And he ends with a call to be more open to kindness, commit to gratitude and embrace pronoia.

My new age friends call that state of being pronoia, the opposite of paranoia. Instead of believing everyone is out to get you, you believe everyone is out to help you. Strangers are working behind your back to keep you going, prop you up, and get you on your path. The story of your life becomes one huge elaborate conspiracy to lift you up. But to be helped you have to join the conspiracy yourself; you have to accept the gifts.

Although we don’t deserve it, and have done nothing to merit it, we have been offered a glorious ride on this planet, if only we accept it. To receive the gift requires the same humble position a hitchhiker gets into when he stands shivering on the side of the empty highway, cardboard sign flapping in the cold wind, and says, “How will the miracle happen today?”

It resonated.

A good friend once went through an experience where a former manager and mentor of theirs reached out with an opportunity.

After going through the process, they went back and forth and eventually, it didn’t pan out.

However, that wasn’t the part of the story that stayed with me. It was the grace with which the person responded.

They reinforced how important this friend was to them. They wished they’d have reached out at a different time when the timing might have worked. And they ended with a note saying they’d always be in their corner.

It is easy to show grace when things go your way.

The real test of character is how you respond when they don’t.

We were on a flight back from New Zealand recently and the aircraft had a technical issue.

There was confusion in the beginning – delays, rolling updates, uncertainty. But then the Air New Zealand crew sprung into action.

The check in crew took ownership and apologized. They said meal vouchers would be ready, and before you knew it, they were.

Within an hour, they’d run a parallel exercise of figuring out if there was another plane available. It was, and they got it ready faster than fixing the original aircraft.

Four hours in, we were on our way.

Meanwhile, they said everybody who had a connection would hear from them by the time we landed. The team worked on rebooking connections through the entire flight and let people know when they got it done.

As people had already eaten dinner by the time we flew, they made it easy for everybody to sleep by saying – “If you really want dinner, open your tray table. Otherwise, we’ll assume you want to sleep.”

A team’s reaction to a stimulus is often more a reflection of their values and state of mind than the stimulus itself.

The stimulus here was an unexpected delay. The response was ownership, clear communication, and effort.

Well played Air New Zealand.

Sometimes the best way to understand what your gut is telling you is to pay careful attention to your energy as you weigh possibilities.

Our reaction to a particular stimulus often says more about our values and state of mind than the stimulus itself.

The same comment can roll off our back one day and ruin our day in different circumstances. And the same setback can feel like a minor bump or a catastrophe – depending on the day.

Our reactions often reveal more about us than the situation.

“The real problem of humanity is the following: We have Paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions and godlike technology. And it is terrifically dangerous.” | E. O. Wilson

I’ve been thinking about this quote a bunch over the past weeks. It is pithy and profound.

The fart walk is an admittedly crude but catchy name that’s become popular recently as a modern rebrand of the post-meal walk.

As I’ve shared a few times over the past months, one of the things I found revelatory from wearing a continuous glucose monitor was the impact of a walk after meals. Taking the time to do a roughly 2,500 step walk – about 1.2 miles or 2 kilometers – goes a long way in managing our post-meal glucose spike. And ensuring that, especially at night, that glucose doesn’t become triglycerides.

These walks have the added effect of reducing bloating by aiding digestion. Which for a lot of people translates to farting and post-walk pooping.

The name is hilarious. But I’m all for a catchy way to label an activity that has almost magical health effects, especially when done at night.

We’ve made it a rhythm now for a fart walk as a family. It’s a lovely way to close the day because it is a win-win-win on health, conversation time, and time with nature.

Here’s to many fart walks in 2026.

Things feel better when we have fewer things in the “I expected that” category and more things in the “wow, that was a bonus” category.

Let the bar be high on how we go about our process and low on the outcomes we expect from them.