Welp, here we go again. Another year older, marginally wiser, and increasingly suspicious that no one knows what the hell they’re doing on this planet.
This marks the sixth consecutive year I’ve sat down on my birthday to compile a list of the most meaningful lessons I’ve learned over the previous 365 days. If you’re curious, you can revisit my previous attempts at wisdom from ages 29, 30, 31, 32, and 33.
Looking back through these essays, I’m struck by how much I’ve changed. And, more interestingly, how much my relationship with wisdom itself has changed.
In my twenties, I was a voracious collector of other people’s insights. I devoured books, listened to every podcast, highlighted passages, saved quotes, and occasionally treated a particularly profound tweet like it came down from the heavens. I was convinced that somewhere out there, buried in the next book or podcast episode, was the missing piece of information that would finally help me figure everything out.
And don’t get me wrong, I still love all that stuff. But somewhere in the last year, I finally figured out that life is more about feeling than intellectualizing.
Deep, I know.
As I’ve gotten older, though, I’ve found that the meaningful lessons don’t come from dead philosophers. They usually come through the normal everyday experiences: a phone call with my mom, putting together a piece of furniture, a playdate with my daughter, or the brief moment in the shower when I realize I’ve been making the same mistake for the better part of a decade.
I’m learning to trust my own experience a little more. To sit with an uncomfortable feeling without immediately trying to fix it. To pay attention to what life is teaching me before reaching for another book to explain it.
There’s a funny irony in spending years reading about how to live a meaningful life, only to discover that you have to occasionally put the book down and actually live one. I suppose that’s one of the great transitions of adulthood. We spend the first part of our lives gathering maps from people who’ve traveled before us. Eventually, we have to venture into the wilderness ourselves. Nobody can do that part for us.
But since I can’t help myself, I present a quote from French novelist Marcel Proust:
“We do not receive wisdom, we must discover it for ourselves, after a journey through the wilderness which no one else can make for us, which no one can spare us, for our wisdom is the point of view from which we come at last to regard the world.”
I think I’ve learned that wisdom is more about developing the patience, humility, and awareness to recognize the lessons unfolding right in front of us.
Of course, at 34, I’m still spectacularly unqualified to give anyone advice on how to live. Half of these lessons are things I routinely forget, ignore, or violate before lunchtime. But that’s part of the fun. We’re all figuring this thing out as we go.
So, in the spirit of sharing notes from the journey, here are 34-ish lessons I’ve stumbled upon during my 34th trip around the sun, courtesy of books, conversations, mistakes, marriage, fatherhood, and the strange, beautiful experience of being a fellow human on this little rock we call Earth.
1. When the goal is to experience, everything is a win
Last Sunday, as my dad and I walked out of MetLife Stadium (following yet another disappointing Giants loss), we figured the day couldn’t possibly get any worse. Then we got to the parking lot and discovered our car had a flat tire…
Rather than wallow in our misery, we decided to have an unofficial competition to see who could out-optimism the other.
- Well, at least it’s not cold and rainy!
- Could’ve happened on the way here and missed the game entirely!
- Hey, now we’ll know what to do next time!
I’ve got my dad to thank for this attitude. Growing up, he always had an uncanny ability to find the silver lining in just about anything. And not in that obnoxious, everything happens for a reason kind of way. He just had a knack for making life’s little disasters feel a bit less disastrous.
It’s a quality I’ve come to appreciate more and more as I’ve gotten older.
And I think the takeaway from those lonely 2 hours in the MetLife parking lot was this: When the goal is to experience life, rather than control it, everything becomes part of the life adventure.
My dad and I have been going to Giants games together since I was five years old. I couldn’t tell you the final score of most of those games, but I can guarantee we’ll be laughing about that flat tire for years to come.
2. Three things worth keeping score of
I used to track metrics like a lunatic. But when it comes down to it, the only three things worth grading ourselves on are the three things we can always control in any situation:
- Our attitude
- Our effort
- Our environment
3. The highest form of human knowledge
Plato claimed that the highest form of human knowledge is empathy, “for it requires us to suspend our egos and live in another’s world.“
The loneliest people are the kindest. The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they don’t wish to see anyone else suffer the way they did.”
4. What’s the rush?
Ever notice how when you’re on vacation, you don’t speed-race to breakfast? You’re not inhaling a sandwich while refreshing your inbox or tearing through your closet for the perfect outfit. You slow down. Your nervous system actually gets a break.
Why is it so hard to live like that on a regular Tuesday?
5. It’s not hard, it’s just unfamiliar
When I was in the fire department, the Chief was showing us a complicated laddering technique. All of us probies were nervous and getting pissed off that we couldn’t figure it out. Then he said something so potent it knocked us out of our frustration:
“It’s not hard, it’s just unfamiliar. You’re new at this.”
6. Life has seasons
For the first year of fatherhood, I kept trying to squeeze my old life into my new one. I wanted to be the same productive guy who worked 40 hours a week, exercised every morning, read every night, saw his buddies, pursued hobbies, and still had enough energy left to be a great husband and dad. Turns out, babies aren’t particularly interested in whatchya got on your calendar…
Life has seasons, and each one asks something different of us. Some seasons are for building a career. Others are for prioritizing health, relationships, or raising a family. The trick is recognizing what season you’re in and giving yourself permission to let a few things take a back seat.
7. The three most dangerous words a man can utter
Men have a remarkable ability to convince themselves they’ve got everything under control. Football coach Pete Carroll used to warn his players about the three most dangerous words a man can say:
I GOT THIS
When a linebacker abandons his assignment because he thinks he can make the play himself, he leaves the entire defense vulnerable. When a husband insists he’s not overwhelmed, his disconnection becomes everyone else’s burden.
You don’t got this. None of us do. Real strength is humility. It’s asking questions, serving others, and admitting weakness before it humiliates you publicly (and maybe your teammates too).
8. Are you climbing the mountain for the world to see you or for you to see the world?
Here’s a question that’ll make you second-guess about half the things you’ve ever worked toward.
9. Modern fatherhood would be unrecognizable to a 1950s dad
Millennial dads are spending more than twice as much time caring for their kids as previous generations of fathers did. As Derek Thompson puts it, “The new American dad is more present and more exhausted—but also, more satisfied with life.” We’re changing diapers, packing lunches, and running on fumes, but we’re also getting a front-row seat to moments previous generations of dads might have missed. I’ll take it.
10. And some advice for the new dads
After your wife gives birth, out of the three of you, you’re the only one not inhabiting a new body. So your job is to use yours to support the other two who are.
11. A provocative take on mental health
“Many are quick to assume someone behaves badly because they have poor mental health, but they seldom consider whether someone has poor mental health because they behave badly.” — Gurwinder Bhogal
12. Not every controversy requires your participation
“The vast majority of drama is voluntary. I do not volunteer.” — Jocko Willink
We live in a world where everyone is expected to have an opinion on everything. Politics, celebrity scandals, the latest SNL opening monologue… I can barely decide what I want for lunch, and yet I’m expected to have an informed opinion on the Strait of Hormuz.
And God forbid you choose to sit one out. Someone will inevitably remind you that your silence is part of the problem.
But guess what? You can care about something without arguing about it. You can stay informed without being perpetually outraged. And you can disagree with someone without making it your life’s purpose to change their mind. Not every argument needs a referee, and not every headline deserves a piece of your sanity.
13. Every generation thinks technology has gone too far
And there you have it. 34 years in, and these are the best insights I’ve managed to scrape together. Some borrowed from people much smarter than me, others learned through trial and error, and a concerning number discovered by repeatedly making the same dumb mistakes.
Of course, writing about wisdom is a hell of a lot easier than actually practicing it. I’ll probably lose my patience in traffic, overthink a meaningless conversation, and get annoyed at my wife for something that’s entirely my fault before this article even goes live.
But I guess that’s the whole gig, right? We’re all works in progress, stumbling our way through life, occasionally getting something right, and hopefully learning to laugh at ourselves along the way.
Here’s to another year of trying to become a slightly better human being, and inevitably finding 35 new ways to embarrass myself in the process.
-KB
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