Five Things to Share:

1. ​Roger Federer Lost 54% of His Points: During his 24-year career, tennis legend Roger Federer won 20 grand slams and 80% of his matches. He's universally regarded among the greatest to ever play the sport. And yet, even with all that success, he only won 54% of the points he ever played. From his recent Dartmouth commencement address:
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   ​When you lose every second point, on average, you learn not to dwell on every shot...When you’re playing a point, it is the most important thing in the world. But when it’s behind you, it’s behind you… This mindset is really crucial, because it frees you to fully commit to the next point… and the next one after that… with intensity, clarity and focus.
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   ​It's easy to allow past mistakes to distract from focus, or allow negative self-talk to creep in and cloud judgment. The difficult part is leaving that behind in order to face the next challenge with focus and clarity of judgment. Later on in the address Federer makes the case that talent should be thought of more broadly than we do. That talent not only encompasses the physical and the technical, but also that hard work and discipline is a talent. Learning to trust yourself is also a talent. Embracing and loving the process is a talent. A broader definition of talent seems like a useful framework for anyone that struggles with a modest modicum of self-doubt. At least it's a reminder that you're working on a lot of things at once.
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2. ​Zadie Smith's 10 Rules for Writing: There's great advice in these 10 rules (the wisdom stretches beyond writing), but my favorite is the last line of Rule 4: don't mask self-doubt with contempt. While I'm not sure I agree that one should avoid their weaknesses, that last line is sage advice. Masking weakness or self-doubt with contempt is something I've done many times, particularly in my younger years. Contempt in this case becomes a defense mechanism protecting against the understandable discomfort of insecurity. That defensive posture attempts to sweep self-doubt under the rug and rationalize it into contempt for someone or something outside of yourself. It's convenient and does often temporarily dull the pain and discomfort, but it is temporary. A momentary salve that unintentionally results in missing out on something potentially significant. Because often embedded within that self-doubt is wisdom. Understanding how it affects you is a source of growth and change. And if that's too high falutin, just remember it's not so cool to treat others with contempt when they don't deserve it. ​
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3. ​Stephen Colbert's interviews Nick Cave: A moving conversation between two of the greats about art, the meaning of music, and the human act of grief and the gift its existence signifies. Colbert might be the greatest interviewer of our time.
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4. ​Nick Cave's response - choosing hopefulness over cynicism: Valerio from Stockholm wrote a vulnerable letter to Nick Cave sharing that he felt empty and cynical and was worried whether that cynicism might rub off on his young son. In a beautifully poetic and compassionate response, Cave explains how choosing hopefulness is a talent. Choosing to be hopeful is difficult, sometimes exhausting, and often lonely. It is something that is hard-earned, like talent. The whole letter is worth your time (he reads it on the Colbert Show in the video above), but here's the final paragraph:
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   ​Unlike cynicism, hopefulness is hard-earned, makes demands upon us, and can often feel like the most indefensible and lonely place on Earth. Hopefulness is not a neutral position either. It is adversarial. It is the warrior emotion that can lay waste to cynicism. Each redemptive or loving act, as small as you like, Valerio, such as reading to your little boy, or showing him a thing you love, or singing him a song, or putting on his shoes, keeps the devil down in the hole. It says the world and its inhabitants have value and are worth defending. It says the world is worth believing in. In time, we come to find that it is so.
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5. Nick Cave's letter and Federer's articulation of talent give voice to something I've been thinking about lately. Which is this idea of choosing how we show up to the things (work tasks, growing a business, managing people, writing) and the people (partners, family, friends, acquaintances, and strangers) that make up our days. Do we show up with enthusiasm and optimism or cynicism and resentment? That is ultimately a choice we get to make. Just as I chose to write a book, I likewise get to choose how I show up to do the work of writing a book. Will I be excited because it's fun and deeply fulfilling or will I allow self-judgment and criticism to become the lens from which I view the work? A similar choice seems available to many and for many different endeavors (especially anything that requires daily or frequent input). We do our best work when we're engaged, excited, and hopeful, so maybe it stands to reason that when we show up to any stage or activity of that work (no matter how small or seemingly trivial) more engaged, excited, and hopeful the better the odds it goes well. We can't possibly sustain this all the time, after all we're human, but perhaps we can do it 54% of the time.

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