Missing Manual
I was born fifty-seven years ago on this day. I entered the world slippery, screaming, and without an owner’s manual.
Matt Groening, creator of the Simpsons, was, as a child, convinced that grown ups were flat out wrong about much of life and generally full of it. As such, he kept a notebook chronicling the ways adults were wrong so he could confirm it when he was an adult, all of which ended up fueling the Simpsons, his billion-dollar franchise.
My childhood conviction was that I contained the potential for big things, but also for great ineptitude; and what I needed was a manual or operator’s guide to figure out how I most optimally worked, so I could access the good version—a conviction that would haunt me for decades.
It was clear early on that school was not going to provide the answers. By 18, it managed to only teach me my first language, some math (mostly forgotten), some science, some very rough Spanish, and a heavy dose of American history through a conventional lens (presidents, politics, wars). No missing manual.
Some other kids seemed to already have the answers. It was like they were Harry Potter and happened on their lightning bolt scar and magical powers early. Without that, I went on to live my life according to a method devised by Colin Angle, Helen Greiner, and Rodney Brooks.
Angle, Greiner, and Brooks are the MIT roboticists behind patent 6,883,201, which is otherwise known as the Roomba—the vacuum robot that manages to achieve its goal by mindlessly racing head-on into walls and furniture, correcting course, then crashing again, and so on, until it has covered every inch of the floor.
La vida Roomba. There have been in my life some highs along the way and memorable moments, but also so many collisions. The Roomba model gets the job done, but it is less than efficient. At the slow rate I was progressing in life, I figured I would need a life expectancy of 377 instead of the current US average of 77.
And then, at about 18,000 days in, with my 50th looming on the horizon, it all started changing. Aided by advances in technology and a new communications medium, I was suddenly able in effect to access the missing manual. Life’s path became clear. I had my lightning bolt.
My hope now is that I can help my kids with similar discoveries and spur them on a couple decades earlier. And possibly this may help your kids, too. Because big life epiphanies still aren’t K-12’s strong suit; in fact, judging by declining scores, K-12 is increasingly flummoxed by its traditional terrain.
Finding the Answers
The source of my radical life change and of such hope for our children? This is the point in the post that I tell you that it was accomplished by binging on podcasts, and then you feel mildly let down, but then I plead with you to hear me out, and you, being the generous soul you are, agree and continue reading.
There is going to be a day in the future when historians will look back and realize what a seismic event it was when some of the planet’s most effective humans suddenly started sharing out their best life insights in granular detail through a medium called, underwhelmingly, podcasting.
With these podcasts, the rest of us mortals could, with the press of a button, replace our slow-moving, rumination-inclined self-talk with something better—hours and hours of practical details about unleashing our minds and living our best lives across a wide range of disciplines. In this sense, mindcasting would be more fitting name.
Up to this point, I had 25 years of living as an adult trial and error. That approach at least led to lots of variety: insurance broker, ski bum, world traveler, reality television producer, author, rodeo clown student, house rehabber, corporate employee (banking, health care, education), and foster parent.
There were successes, but also the collisions. Also, the desire to make the most of life, but not having all the information took a physical toll. No to brag, but this included: anxiety, depression, dermatitis, irritable bowel syndrome, profound insomnia, years of substance abuse, a heart issue, and weird low grade hyperventilation thing that imperceptibly deprives the brain of the proper oxygen levels.
(And I am not going to mention the bed-wetting and finger-sucking that continued on well past the norm, though, thankfully, they are no longer.)
Then my sister-in-law casually mentioned a podcast she thought I might like. That mere mention set in motion successive waves of transformation that were continually surprising and included the greatest gift of peace, as I eventually pieced together the information for my missing manual.
What amazes me is that, while millions listen to these shows, these listeners aren’t often shared, so the full potential of podcasts remains muted. I am sharing just three quick case studies from my own past in hopes of showing what is possible.
Case 1 - The Weight
My experience began with the Rich Roll Podcast nearly 10 years ago. Roll had been an unhappy, unhealthy, recovering alcoholic entertainment lawyer when he had a midlife health scare that led to him to transforming himself into a chiseled vegan ultra endurance athlete.
His podcast in those early days focused on guests with their own stories of radical transformation, many of which involved a shift in diet. Veganism was then still on the fringes of the culture, out there with witchcraft, and an approach to eating that I had zero interest in.
Something about the message of Roll and his guests, who talked about efficiency of the diet, the benefit of nutrient density, the increase in energy, which could in turn provide a catalyst for other life change, got to me. It was helped along by fact that Roll’s message was for hours replacing my own repetitive, uninspired inner monologue.
What would have previously seemed unthinkable then happened. My wife and I both made the switch. Working in a cubicle for years, I had developed a physique that called to mind Kermit the Frog’s body—prominent midsection and lifeless limbs. Eating plants alone, pounds fled my body in a way that was shocking. To the point I had to put on the breaks.
And my energy did increase, and also evened out, which together further fueled a desire for more change.
Case 2 - The Entrepreneur
Through the RRP, I was introduced to other early-day podcasters like Tim Ferriss, Chris Guillebeu, Lewis Howes, and James Altucher, all of whom hosted shows that were at their core about personal transformation, often through entrepreneurship, though this latter element was something I had little interest in.
I came of age in the 80s, heyday of Michael Milken and Gordon “Greed is Good” Gecko, none of which was appealing to me. Also, I had never sold baseball cards as a kid, or operated a lemonade stand, or other early hallmarks of entrepreneurs.
Once again, though, over the course of listening to these shows, my own dubious inner monologue was replaced with something new—in this case details about how technology was eliminating gatekeepers, disrupting old paradigms, and how anyone could now start a business. Anyone.
I was out jogging when it hit me: I saw a Pilates studio in our basement. We had a side door to our house, unfinished basement, and my wife was a popular teacher who didn’t love working for others. Like that. Lightbulb. We would open a business in our house. I picked up my pace to get home and tell my wife.
Within about six months, Kingfield Pilates was a thriving, albeit non-scalable business. As it has been now for going on six years. All because of my new mental soundtrack. I had even used the advertisers from the podcasts I was listening to (Squarespace for website, Square for payments, 99Designs for logo, etc.).
Case 2 - The Executive
During this time, I had been creeping my way up the corporate ladder. This was after years of more exotic life working in television and as an author in Los Angeles.
My corporate work began with some temping a bank, and though feeling full fish out of water, I nonetheless advanced up the ranks for years. And then it stopped, which I assumed, knowing the Peter principle, meant I had risen as far as I was competent to go, or possibly beyond my competence.
Which was fine. The corporate work had just been a temporary fix, while I tried to figure out what I wanted to do when I grew up. The only problem was 20 years had passed in the blink of an eye, and it gets increasingly hard, once you hit the 50s, to make the case that you are not yet grown up.
While trying to figure out my next life move, I had started binging on Guy Raz’s great How I Built This, a podcast about how many well-known businesses came to be. The show paints a picture of business as a far more creative, dramatic endeavor than I had seen it as. I also went in big for Tom Bilyeu, a self-professed average guy turned business phenom through a radical growth mindset that he repeatedly explained in great detail on his show.
Once more, replacing my own thinking with these enhanced feeds led to a flash of insight and dramatic shift in behavior.
Yes, I was a fish out of water, a bit of a disorganized neurotic mess. My memory was a particular problem. It was like the Tom Hanks character on SNL years ago whose short-term memory is so bad that he is out at a restaurant, takes a bite of food, and then suddenly freaks out: “Oh my god! There’s something in my mouth!”.
But thanks to all the listening, I suddenly understood how none of that mattered, given the degree to which my strenghts, which I was now better able to see, were far more valuable to the company’s bottomline than I was giving them credit for—something that would be even more true if I actually leaned into the experience of business.
I asked my boss to lunch. I recommended that he not only promote me to lead a team I had recently been removed from, but also that I take over the company’s moribund marketing department as well, though I had no formal experience with marketing. And I even heard myself suggest that if this didn’t happen, I would need to look elsewhere.
After some time, he agreed and made it happen. And a few months later, I was back asking for another promotion, feeling almost crazed with confidence, and this time asking that I be raised to the level of vice president, or I would need to go. Again, shockingly, leadership agreed.
None of the above would have happened without the endless hours of mindcasting. I think it saved me from the tragedy of never really figuring myself out, and am sure countless others are having this experience. My only regrets is that it didn’t happen sooner.
What This Means for Educating Our Kids
Being alive, this one fleeting time, amidst this endless, expanding universe—it is, as we all well know, a miracle and blessing that verges on unfathomable. When it comes to our kids, our greatest parental ambition is that they have the luxury of feeling, in the end, like they have lived it well.
There will come a time when young people will turn to super computers to better understand themselves and their best life trajectories. In the same way that Deep Blue beats humans in chess by powering through millions of possible outcomes, technology will help the young see their likely futures.
Or some other technology will arise to meet the need we have to increase the likelihood that we are making the most of our one wild and precious life. For our kids today, based on my life-saving experiences, I think they are immensely fortunate to have access to podcasts.
Taking advantage of this resources starts with seeing podcasting for what is—a possible source of learning that can dwarf in impact on life trajectories and self understanding the education that school is meting out, something this post has hopefully helped with.
Beyond such awareness, we parents should be involved in curating listening options for our kids, ensuring they are hearing from the best and that what they hear aligns with their interests or challenges they are dealing with (advice that complements my suggestions last week for increasing outside book intake—and it is really two together that is totally unstoppable).
This potential to access life-changing information is astounding. Tim Ferriss once joked about it, noting the degree to which his wildly successful guests had spelled out all their secrets in the course of hundreds of episodes, and concluding: if listeners thought that they still needed more answers, they had other problems.
My kids, like me, arrived without life manuals, but I am profoundly relieved that they live in a time when the information that they need to make the most of their minds and how to live more fully is available—albeit amidst a sprawl of increasing other randomness (including some that inexplicably focus on reliving television shows of the past via podcast), but at least it is out there.
This is all much less exhausting than relying on 6,883,201. By listening to the right dispatches, our kids have a greater likelihood of finding their lightning bolts than any time previously.
Meanwhile, their father keeps listening, which is a double-edged sword, as the voices keep egging him on, suggesting the pursuit of ever more audacious aspirations, which somehow morphed into taking on a quest to disrupt K-12 education, despite the advanced age of 57 and writing for fun after a 20-year writer’s block.