I was 36, and had been living in Portland for two years. I saw an amazing house for sale — really amazing — stunning design, ideal location on the edge of the city, and its backyard was the start of a huge state park. I had a visceral reaction.

For a minute, I daydreamed about living the rest of my life in that house. Find a wife, and raise a family in that house. A bunch of grandkids, and that house would be a multi-generational axis.

Then I snapped out of it. What was I thinking? That’s not the life I want!

In 50 years, what would I rather be saying?

“I bought this house 50 years ago, and I’ve been here ever since!”

… or …

“Hey honey, what year did we move to Berlin?”
“2030, after Buenos Aires. Because in 2040 we moved to Bangalore.”
“Oh right. Our bungalow in Bali was the year before Beijing.”

Now that’s the life I want! Nothing against the settled life for others, but it’s not for me. I want to live in every corner of the world.

We make a big choice, like a house, job, spouse, or dog. We think about the thing itself: the look of the house, what the job pays, what a sweet dog. But a choice has so many cascading consequences. One big choice shapes a hundred little others. I try to imagine the ripple effects — the later details that make the day-to-day difference.

Then I think in reverse. Knowing the consequences I want, what choice would create them? What big choice would nudge a hundred others that way?

Within an hour of seeing that house, picturing the two different paths, it was clear I wanted to leave America forever, so I booked a flight to London. I didn’t know the details, but I knew this big first choice would send me in the right direction. (And it has.)

Atomic habits? Decision fatigue? One big choice decides a hundred others. So it helps to think of implications, and daydream backwards.

…I have spent 63 years trying to cultivate hope, but my thoughts wander in this direction too often these days. Why protect the wildflowers that grow in our yard when all the emerald yards nearby are drenched in herbicides and when their purely ornamental shrubs are drenched in insecticides? Why trouble myself to keep the stock-tank ponds filled with water when every spring there are fewer and fewer tree frogs who might need a nursery for their eggs? Why turn off the lights to protect nocturnal creatures when all around me the houses are lit up like airport runways? Why bother to plant saplings when a builder will only cut them down later, after my husband and I are gone, to make room for yet another foolishly large house that glows in the dark? …

More and more I find it hard not to ask the question I have spent my adult life avoiding: What is the point of even trying? …

At my lowest, I have never entirely given up my faith that good people working together can change the world for the better. When I have been downhearted in the past, I have always explained to myself that I am not alone in my efforts to cultivate change — by writing, by planting, by loving the living world in every way I can find to love it. Individual efforts gather momentum through the individual efforts of others…

In saving the leaves for the moths and the fireflies and the dark-eyed juncos, I am still trying. And in the trying perhaps I can save my own soul.

— Margaret Renkl, from “How to Keep Your Own Soul Safe in the Dark” (NY Times, December 9, 2024)

Sometimes I’ll talk about something I like online and people will express shock that I can use a product that has such a clear downside. I’ve gotten people ask how I can use Things since it doesn’t have shared task lists. More recently I was told the monitor I wanted to get would have been outdated in 2008 because it didn’t have Thunderbolt or 5K resolution.

Here’s the thing, neither of those things impacted my use of the product at all, so their omissions don’t make me feel anything at all.

A core thing that people seem to forget sometimes is that different people have different needs from the things they use. And even if there’s overlap in what people want, they may rank those things differently. If we focus on the display example above, there are tons of variables that go into choosing a computer display. Cost, resolution, brightness, viewing angle, response time, refresh rate, display tech, physical design, inputs, and more go into your choice, and different people want different things. I know a good portion of the “Apple Twitter” (I know we’ve moved on, but you know what I mean) population sets 5K resolution, physical design, and Thunderbolt input as the core features they want. They certainly wouldn’t turn away higher refresh rates, more inputs, or a lower price, but they’re lower priorities for them.

Meanwhile, I prioritize refresh rate, display tech, and inputs more because those impact my use case more significantly. Of course, I wouldn’t mind some of the other features to be better, but I care about them less and others don’t impact me at all.

All that being said, it’s a lesson in empathy, and it’s a reminder that most of us could use every now and again (including myself).

sandmandaddy69:

Peter Knifton

“We can disagree and still love each other unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist.”
– James Baldwin