I don’t really expect all that much from any charity I support. I’m not looking for rides to the airport or artisanal cheese plates. As our household’s income grew over the decades, Simone and I made donations to more and more good causes. Hey, we didn’t have kids (which fully explains that second home in France). We also had a reassuring retirement fund socked away (so we wouldn’t end up homeless, as a friend or two had finished up). And so — yeah, sure; why not — we could afford occasional gifts to charities that made us feel better because they were fighting the very things we wanted to fight.
So now we give to 30 or so charities a year.
I quickly saw that most nonprofits were lousy at prolonging my pleasure, though.
“Here’s all I want from you,” I finally wrote in a book. “Tell me I’m a reasonably good person. Don’t go crazy. But just tell me that my help matters.” Even so: most of “our” charities remain hesitant, self-absorbed, indifferent, narcissistic, negligent, uncouth, dumb, rude, demanding, stiff, formal, and/or cold.
Poor lovers get replaced quickly. Just saying.
Examine your own dating past if this surprises you.
The very next thing I read is Seth Godin’s blog Again and again and again
Ruts don’t dig themselves.
Most of the time, we’re in a rut because that’s precisely where we put ourselves.
Actions become habits, and habits get repeated because they feel safe.
The easiest way to make things more interesting is to simply stop repeating your habitual behavior.
And that often comes from reacting to triggers. Remove the triggers and you can alter the habits.
Tiny changes. Different ways to keep score.
Tomorrow comes daily. But we don’t have to take the same route to get there.
It’s as if Tom and Seth were sharing one brain while writing.
I want to yell and scream and rant and rave. I want to weep with deep sadness.
Oh… I already do so regularly… In the privacy of my office. With my clients. While presenting.
Tom and Seth just said it better. Thank you.