- Commander-in-Chief Briefs
- Posts
- Harsh Lessons from "A Busy Man"
Personal note:
Aight, you prolly noticed I’ve been out of the newsletter writing game for 3 weeks or so. Life comes fast and furious sometimes, bro/sis.
Back in the saddle.
New platform (Beehiiv). Time to really up my newsletter game.
Oh, and I started the Commander in Chief Community, too.
Basically, this has all my best stuff, coaching and consulting materials, latest tools, my book split into chapters, with a whole bunch of my best trainings, workshops, writing, podcast episodes you name it.
Oh yeah, the premium stuff?
When you subscribe (and help me pay the damn bills, only fair), you’re gonna get:
1) Group coaching - career, business, life, whatevs
2) Private monthly trainings and workshops. Think:
a. getting promoted,
b. getting paid more,
c. building a 6-figure side business,
d. building a brilliant personal brand.
3) Special discounts for 1-on-1 coaching
You’re gonna LOVE this. Yeah, it’s pretty MASSIVE value, amigo/a.
Time to get off the sidelines.
Like, this is basically all the best stuff I’ve ever produced, with weekly updates and a ton of new stuff.
YEP, IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING!! GET EXCITE!
And NOW, I’m gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse…
I don’t want to hear any objections. You straight up have ZERO EXCUSE, homie.
Get in there, get active, help me keep building this amazing community.
After that, it’s gonna cost you a whopping $10/month, to start.
Seriously, what are you still doing here? LOLZ.
Get in there and make some noise. Intro yourself.
Send this to 5 of your friends. NOW. Seriously. Pretty, please 🙂
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Whether it’s the first time, or if it’s just been a while, let’s connect and get to know each other (better) as humans.
If we haven’t connected yet, connect with me on LinkedIN. I post some super useful stuff there, as well :)
Put 30 minutes on my calendar to chat. No strings attached, whatsoever.
Let’s get to know each other (in many cases after not chatting for a long time) as humans, friends.
Of course, if there’s something I can help you with, just ask and I’ll do whatever I can to ask.
Don’t be a stranger, friend.
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In this issue: Nabokov on Busy-ness
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Lessons from Nabokov’s A Busy Man
As you might have noticed, I’ve been on a break for a couple weeks.
You know, sometimes life gets a bit too complex and stressful and a newsletter drops off the priority list.
Strange things happen sometimes when friends fly off the handle in anger and lose themselves.
Fun things happen when you indulge your wife in some unwanted gardening and backyard trash cleanup.
Important (and really, really hard) shit happens when you’re forced to re-examine your blind spots in your marriage, in your work, your business, your friendships.
Like REALLY hard.
Listen, thank G-d for them, even if my head feels like it’s been beaten up from every side.
There’s no growth without a bit of (mental) violence, sometimes.
But here we are, back and stronger than ever.
Stronger morning routine (daily morning and afternoon prayer), better organization (thanks, Notion), stronger commitment to wife and kids and self.
A bit of help from my friends, who’ve seen me through hell and high water and the highest of blessings.
Never a dull moment, hardly a moment of rest.
None of this is to say, “oh, woe, look at me, I’m a truly Busy Man.”
Bleh, yekh, no honor in being busy for busy-ness’s sake.
Same in actual business, which is a convenient set of blinders, all in the name of speed and supposed progress.
All sorts of nasty self-fulfilling prophecies and martyrdom built up over the years.
Harsh stuff, shedding it all when forced by life and the people around you.
But I’m truly grateful it’s gone down like this.
If you’ve been reading this newsletter a while, you know I read constantly.
Voraciously, obsessively.
So in what might have been a cliche 30-40 years ago, I’ve been reading Nabokov’s short stories.
Brilliant stuff, always loved his word play on the level of Shakespeare and incredible erudition and so on.
There are New York stories, Russian emigre stories, all the favorite old hits.
But one of these stories struck me especially.
So there’s this mediocre writer, Grafitski (as in, he might as well write graffiti on walls) who falls into an obsession about dying during his age 33 year.
Nabokov wrote a lot about the subject of death, from just about every perspective imaginable.
The story resonates with me not because of any reason other than…
When I turned 33, I had the same exact obsession in the back of my mind.
I mean, I know it’s quite stupid. It’s an Eastern Orthodox (Christian, obviously) shtick about dying like Jesus, who was 33 when he died.
Some people are obsessed with the 27 club. I also had that phase when I was 27.
It’s a bunch of nonsense.
Like being afraid to die at the same age as a dead parent or grandparent.
There’s no logical reason for it, as much as people might try to map reason to irrational thoughts.
So the guy basically spends the entire year first withdrawn from people, from activity, from doing much of anything, just sitting at home, brooding and minimizing risk.
Truly sad pre-occupation.
But that’s not why this story struck me so much.
Not even because I had a similar obsession and just sort of kept going through it, while it stuck in the back of my mind.
It’s because of the power of irrational thinking on the mind, which clouds so many of the blessings and great occasions in life, simply because the brain is co-opted into looking for some sort of mortal danger or risk where there simply isn’t any.
Even stranger for someone who’s an observant Jew. But certain irrational mindworms just don’t go away easily… until the age of 34.
Like for Grafitski.
Looking back into my own mirror, I realized from reading this story that I myself have been holding on far too hard to certain things in life, as much as I profess not to hold on to them.
And also of running away from addressing big elephant-sized things in the room by being busy, busy, always busy.
Pride, unfortunately. Pride of being a man, being a certain age, having a certain professional momentum, etc.
Routine on auto-pilot. Habits of not doing certain things and getting away with it. Habits of doing certain things and maybe not well enough, not consistently enough.
Coasting, hoping for the best despite evidence to the contrary.
Using bad practices out of laziness without updating the software.
Not being patient enough and getting angry more easily than before.
Taking too many risks by contrast to childhood, rebelling against daddy issues or mommy issues or both, running away from responsibility.
All in the name of busy-ness. In the name of, just hold on a little, just push a little longer, just check email one more time, just submit another resume for a project.
I know I’ll get lucky if I work hard enough, if I get my name out there enough times, if I have enough conversations with people.
It’s pure hell, alienating, numbing, this so-called “hope for the best.”
Nothing works by hope alone.
There are no real systems in place, no skillful pilot, just an Icarus lucky to be aloft.
Thoughts like:
Because I’m a coach, I always have to be positive.
Look at that, I know I’m not like *that*.
We always see in others the problems we have ourselves. Pretty reliable narrative.
And then the thing that scares you most, crashes on your head like a tsunami.
A threat, words you never thought you’d hear.
A reversion to a place of trauma.
Your life flashing before your eyes.
Old dreams transformed into instant nightmares in sleep.
Pain, trauma, fears, resurrected, clawed back into your heart flesh.
But then the strength of all the work on oneself also roars out.
Self-preservation, visualization of worst-case scenarios.
I’ll survive no matter what. I’ll make it, regardless of how bad it looks.
Getting help from friends.
Talking through things. Regaining some sort of floating device in the Level 5 rapids.
Talking, lots of talking, lots of pain, lots of action in silence.
Not busy-ness, not business, but slowing down time.
Slowing down one’s black thoughts, slowing down the flashing images.
Just. getting. some. fucking. sleep.
Learning to crawl before walking. Forgetting running, for the time being.
Rebuilding one’s stature.
Stripping away all the horseshit that’s collected underfoot.
Cleaning the stable, cleaning the mind.
Taking walks.
Yep, baby steps.
Maybe reading some Nabokov, learning some Torah.
Reconnecting with one’s roots.
Helping others, not dwelling too much in one’s own excrement.
Yeah, slowly, slowly, it works.
And business-wise, there’s lots of mad-dash flashes of the future.
ChatGPT-4 is coloring all sorts of processes now, research, content, coaching,
No perfection yet, but very good up to 80-90%.
Will we be busier, or more efficient?
How soon will everyone be using these tools?
How much of a lead time do I have before the rush?
You know, all that can wait.
I feel like I’ve lived through that 33rd birthday year all over again.
Much work remains.
But the mind has cleared.
Stay tuned for the next destination.
With G-d’s help, I’m back.
And now, I turn to you, dear reader.
Where are YOU living in your proverbial 33rd birthday year?
What is it that’s keeping you from taking risks and living life fully?
What sorts of irrational (or hyper-rational) beliefs are keeping you grounded, instead of flying forward?
What sort of graffiti are you writing in your mind, which you can’t get rid of?
Maybe it’s time for a sabbatical (or a proverbial brain mash and resetting)?
Drop me a line, I’d love to help, if I can.
And now since there’s a whole world of stuff open to you, go and look at all the helpful things in the Commander in Chief Community.
Tell your amigos and amigas, please.
This community and work mean EVERYTHING to me. It’s my life’s work.
Help a brother out. Send your suggestions, give me a clearer sense of how I can help and serve y’all through this community.
Thanks!
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My Offer:
Put 30 minutes on my calendar to chat. No strings attached, whatsoever.
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