I've been quiet on the blog lately -- writing is one of those things that's hard to build a habit for, but always pays big dividends when you do it.  Every time I've gotten into a good blogging rhythm I am undoubtedly surprised by the feedback I get (good and bad!), but more importantly, by the ripple effects.  Writing is capital -- you work to make it, and then it works for you. As someone who likes to work with his hands (both in the analog and digital worlds), I feel pretty deeply connected to both labor and to capital.  The process of making something (a table, an app, a blog post) can be deeply satisfying, and then the follow-on effects from that thing existing can (in the best cases) be very high leverage. I would say my hands-on nature is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to this.  Because I like "making stuff" I'm often drawn into projects where I might be better off hiring (or inspiring) someone else to do it, or delegating it somehow.  When it comes to producing capital, sometimes actually the less you "do", the more you can accomplish.  I think of this as learning to develop a Capital mindset, over a Labor mindset. Of course this relates to money as well. For the longest time -- I think this was just my foundational mental model -- I intuitively understood the idea that you work, and you get paid.  Labor.  Paid for your time.  Despite the fact that I have worked for a  long time in the software economy (and of course now, in venture capital), I had to overcome this idea of labor being the thing.  For instance, I spent a lot of time in my early twenties as a freelance developer, building apps (capital) for others, but just getting paid for my time. Maybe this is intuitively obvious to other people, but it has taken me some time to turn the corner and understand the value of, and the power of, capital.  **Especially** capital you can build through your own efforts, like writing, or coding, or making music, art, etc. I feel like it's an overall very powerful frame, and is especially helpful when it comes to prioritizing your own time & activities -- whether you are the CEO of a company, or a guy/gal sitting in your living room. With that in mind, here is my first blog post of 2018.  Here's to a great year, everyone.

The week before last, we lost a dear friend to cancer.  Deb was an incredibly sweet, caring and giving person.  The memorial service last weekend was held at the elementary school where she taught first grade for the past 15 years.  The room was decorated -- to the hilt -- with hearts, butterflies, and ribbons, all in her favorite color purple, and was covered in notes of love and appreciation from students, parents and colleagues. During and after the service, I was overwhelmed by two feelings: first, the incredible compassion and caring that Deb exuded, in particular towards her family and students.  It was palpable, and hung in the air long after the service was concluded.  And second: the weight of the impact she had on all of the people she touched during her life.  A friend of ours was remarking, after the ceremony, how lucky Deb was to be in a position to connect with, support, and serve so many people during her time here. All of this has gotten me to thinking more about how much most of us get caught up in our own day-to-day anxieties and challenges, and how hard it can be, sometimes, to see over your own dashboard, so to speak.  Myself included.  It's so easy to get hung up in our own personal challenges, desires, frustrations, anxieties and disappointments. The great irony in this, is that one of the best ways to get out of your own shit, is to put yourself in the back seat and focus on serving others. I know Deb dealt with shyness and anxiety herself, and I suspect that this only added to her empathy when it came to supporting her family, friends and students. Every time I have managed to do this in my life, the result has not only been to provide some sort of useful help (I hope), but also to quell the internal drama. In other words, perhaps the best way to escape from our own suffering is to help other people escape theirs. There are lots of ways to do this, many of which come naturally through the course of your day and are just a matter of reframing your own mindset, as opposed to finding something brand new (though that's important too). After Deb passed, we couldn't help but notice her in the wind, and the sun, and the evening mist.  Her energy may have left her body, but it certainly hasn't left the world.  And what I am trying to do is remember the power of her energy, and the importance of using whatever energy we all have, today and tomorrow, in the service of others.

Today is the last day of September, and I'm happy and relieved to see it go. I've been holding my breath. September is a violent month.  That may seem like a ridiculous thing to say, but I think there's some truth in it.  Something about the end of the summer and the abrupt change to the fall causes some trauma.  A lot of pent-up energy on the planet.  September is hurricane season, and this one has been particularly bad. A year ago yesterday, my wife's parents were hit by a truck while crossing the street.  The accident happened at 7pm, which in September, in Boston, is dark -- a time of day when it wasn't dark just a few weeks earlier.  My mother-in-law spent 4 months in the hospital, most of that with her skull partially removed to relieve the swelling and hopefully stave off extensive` brain damage.  A year ago today we were in a state of full shell-shock. In the past year, she has had a miraculous recovery, and this month she actually went back to work.  She's driving, and taking care of herself.  If you didn't know her and didn't know about the accident, you'd never suspect anything happened.  It's amazing really.  The doctors have been in awe of the recovery. We're so thankful.  And so exhausted and traumatized from the past year.  And we've been walking on eggshells all month, feeling the season change -- the air getting crisper, the night coming earlier.  Feeling the feelings we felt last year at this time, and having this unconscious expectation of impending doom.  I'm knocking on wood as I write this, that we've made it through. It's also Yom Kippur today -- the day of atonement, the holiest day of the year, and the end of the high holidays.  A time to turn the page, look back at the last year, reflect on our actions, and look forward to the new year.  I like that.  I've always liked formal turning points; somehow they make it easier to find some clarity amidst the mess. I guess I don't really have a point to this post, except to point out the change in the air, and wish everyone the best as they navigate the coming season.

I've been quiet on the blog lately -- writing is one of those things that's hard to build a habit for, but always pays big dividends when you do it.  Every time I've gotten into a good blogging rhythm I am undoubtedly surprised by the feedback I get (good and bad!), but more importantly, by the ripple effects.  Writing is capital -- you work to make it, and then it works for you. As someone who likes to work with his hands (both in the analog and digital worlds), I feel pretty deeply connected to both labor and to capital.  The process of making something (a table, an app, a blog post) can be deeply satisfying, and then the follow-on effects from that thing existing can (in the best cases) be very high leverage. I would say my hands-on nature is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to this.  Because I like "making stuff" I'm often drawn into projects where I might be better off hiring (or inspiring) someone else to do it, or delegating it somehow.  When it comes to producing capital, sometimes actually the less you "do", the more you can accomplish.  I think of this as learning to develop a Capital mindset, over a Labor mindset. Of course this relates to money as well. For the longest time -- I think this was just my foundational mental model -- I intuitively understood the idea that you work, and you get paid.  Labor.  Paid for your time.  Despite the fact that I have worked for a  long time in the software economy (and of course now, in venture capital), I had to overcome this idea of labor being the thing.  For instance, I spent a lot of time in my early twenties as a freelance developer, building apps (capital) for others, but just getting paid for my time. Maybe this is intuitively obvious to other people, but it has taken me some time to turn the corner and understand the value of, and the power of, capital.  **Especially** capital you can build through your own efforts, like writing, or coding, or making music, art, etc. I feel like it's an overall very powerful frame, and is especially helpful when it comes to prioritizing your own time & activities -- whether you are the CEO of a company, or a guy/gal sitting in your living room. With that in mind, here is my first blog post of 2018.  Here's to a great year, everyone.

The week before last, we lost a dear friend to cancer.  Deb was an incredibly sweet, caring and giving person.  The memorial service last weekend was held at the elementary school where she taught first grade for the past 15 years.  The room was decorated -- to the hilt -- with hearts, butterflies, and ribbons, all in her favorite color purple, and was covered in notes of love and appreciation from students, parents and colleagues. During and after the service, I was overwhelmed by two feelings: first, the incredible compassion and caring that Deb exuded, in particular towards her family and students.  It was palpable, and hung in the air long after the service was concluded.  And second: the weight of the impact she had on all of the people she touched during her life.  A friend of ours was remarking, after the ceremony, how lucky Deb was to be in a position to connect with, support, and serve so many people during her time here. All of this has gotten me to thinking more about how much most of us get caught up in our own day-to-day anxieties and challenges, and how hard it can be, sometimes, to see over your own dashboard, so to speak.  Myself included.  It's so easy to get hung up in our own personal challenges, desires, frustrations, anxieties and disappointments. The great irony in this, is that one of the best ways to get out of your own shit, is to put yourself in the back seat and focus on serving others. I know Deb dealt with shyness and anxiety herself, and I suspect that this only added to her empathy when it came to supporting her family, friends and students. Every time I have managed to do this in my life, the result has not only been to provide some sort of useful help (I hope), but also to quell the internal drama. In other words, perhaps the best way to escape from our own suffering is to help other people escape theirs. There are lots of ways to do this, many of which come naturally through the course of your day and are just a matter of reframing your own mindset, as opposed to finding something brand new (though that's important too). After Deb passed, we couldn't help but notice her in the wind, and the sun, and the evening mist.  Her energy may have left her body, but it certainly hasn't left the world.  And what I am trying to do is remember the power of her energy, and the importance of using whatever energy we all have, today and tomorrow, in the service of others.

Today is the last day of September, and I'm happy and relieved to see it go. I've been holding my breath. September is a violent month.  That may seem like a ridiculous thing to say, but I think there's some truth in it.  Something about the end of the summer and the abrupt change to the fall causes some trauma.  A lot of pent-up energy on the planet.  September is hurricane season, and this one has been particularly bad. A year ago yesterday, my wife's parents were hit by a truck while crossing the street.  The accident happened at 7pm, which in September, in Boston, is dark -- a time of day when it wasn't dark just a few weeks earlier.  My mother-in-law spent 4 months in the hospital, most of that with her skull partially removed to relieve the swelling and hopefully stave off extensive` brain damage.  A year ago today we were in a state of full shell-shock. In the past year, she has had a miraculous recovery, and this month she actually went back to work.  She's driving, and taking care of herself.  If you didn't know her and didn't know about the accident, you'd never suspect anything happened.  It's amazing really.  The doctors have been in awe of the recovery. We're so thankful.  And so exhausted and traumatized from the past year.  And we've been walking on eggshells all month, feeling the season change -- the air getting crisper, the night coming earlier.  Feeling the feelings we felt last year at this time, and having this unconscious expectation of impending doom.  I'm knocking on wood as I write this, that we've made it through. It's also Yom Kippur today -- the day of atonement, the holiest day of the year, and the end of the high holidays.  A time to turn the page, look back at the last year, reflect on our actions, and look forward to the new year.  I like that.  I've always liked formal turning points; somehow they make it easier to find some clarity amidst the mess. I guess I don't really have a point to this post, except to point out the change in the air, and wish everyone the best as they navigate the coming season.