Do It For The Love of It

In 2009, a billionaire visited McGill University, where Greg Isenberg went to school. Greg had one logical question for him:

What’s the greatest piece of advice for both young and older people alike?

The billionaire’s response:

If you can’t get your work done between 9-6, you aren’t doing your job properly.

A logical response to a logical question. But this threw Isenberg off his feet. “At the time, I was working 80 hour weeks, doing everything I can to make it”, Isenberg writes.

The following day, Isenberg swore to himself that he’ll never work more than 50 hours a week for the rest of his life. That amount of time may be enough to film and edit a short film, but it wasn’t sufficient to run a big team at a product agency, and certainly not enough to start 3 companies and sell them all.

But that was how Isenberg ran his life as a tech entrepreneur. And he did well.

His trick?

By staying true to his mantra: the philosophy of slow living.

My slow living journey is all about simple acts, like turning my morning coffee routine into a full-on sensory experience. Or taking these undisturbed, nature-filled walks during lunch without my phone, kind of syncing myself with nature’s rhythms.

Logically, no one would equate building million-dollar tech companies to chilling by the beach with a coffee in hand. Most would expect the grind: 24/7 in office, working 15 hours a day. Work = life should have been the correct mantra.

Pfft. Slow living?

But Isenberg owes much of his success to these simple acts that “transformed his everyday life, making it much more mindful and relaxed.” And contrary to popular belief, the best ideas, Isenberg wrote, “don’t always spring from high-pressure brainstorming sessions or late-night cramming”.

“More often, they seep into consciousness during moments of quiet contemplation, while watching the stillness of a lake at dawn or enjoying that first, slow sip of morning coffee, undisturbed by digital distractions”. And the world he was living in, no matter how painful or exhausting, was all about loving what you do and doing what you love.

While Isenberg was enjoying his tranquil mornings, Novak Djokovic was swinging hard on the tennis court.

One thing Djokovic had that most of us don’t, talent. In a span of 5 years after turning pro, he was the number three ranked player in the world and a grand slam winner. But after being knocked-out in the quarterfinals in the 2010 French Open, Djokovic hit a brick wall.

He first told his parents he was done, then he went to tell his coach Maria Vajda. In response to a grown-man in tears, Vajda asked: “Why did you start playing this sport? Put aside rankings and what you want to achieve, do you really like holding a racket in your hand?”.

His response:

I do. I love holding a racket in my hand. Whether it’s a grand slam final or on center court or just a normal public court, I like playing for the sake of playing.

Whether you are a tech entrepreneur embracing serenity, a tennis superstar reminiscing his rookie origins, or somewhere in the middle, one thing shows up: the purpose of your actions does not necessarily require the intention to gain.

It’s strange but true, a tough nut to crack for many parents with school-going children.

Society and culture rewards us in exchange for time and effort. Success has been defined by how much you've achieved and how well you are on the ladder against everyone else. The unfortunate consequence is that instead of challenging our kids to do their best in what they find meaning in, the invisible race to the top has led some parents to go full berserk.

And as I've said before, if your kids have no interest in the things they do, they will only go that far.

But if there’s one thing you should tread carefully around as a parent, is what Isenberg calls the optimisation junkie identity - dedicating your child’s life to the grind, and a general belief that you have to optimise every waking second to make the most of their lives. Because somehow, every minute wasted is a dollar lost.

That’s no way kids should live their lives.

The end goal with no end goal

In 2008, “In The Heights” won a Grammy and four Tony Awards. During the award ceremony at Radio City Music Hall, the entire cast and crew gathered on stage as they received the final Tony award for Best Musical. In a joyful moment, two individuals lifted Lin-Manuel Miranda, the writer and star of the musical, onto their shoulders, amidst fist-pumping, waving, screaming, and smiles.

Almost immediately, the atmosphere shifted when the lights changed, and the audience began to leave. Tommy Kail, director of the musical, remained on stage, choosing to stand there alone.

“Forty-four seconds. That’s how long the cast stood on stage for to receive the award and give their thanks. That’s 0.000017% of the eight years Kail spent working on it. To let 0.000017% of an experience determine one’s happiness or satisfaction with the work, Kail realised, is insane”, wrote Billy Oppenheimer.

Outcomes make up a fraction of the experiences. A crumb of a humongous pie.

But yet we give it permission to decide what is fulfilling or satisfying for our children.

The fast-paced, hyper connected lives build on pre-defined pillars of success has made it feel like we're being robbed by gaining nothing out of something.

​When my family and I relocated to Japan at the beginning of 2022, Mathieu quit his day job, and I had to shelf Gosh! Kids. In a quick crazy moment, we were carrying our suitcases and newborn into a country that was rampant with coronavirus. "It’s crazy how much we’ve sacrificed to be here”, I told Mathieu one sunday evening, lying on the beaches of Fukuoka City while watching our then 11-month old playing blissfully in the water. I remembered telling myself, “is this worth anything?” But in my mind, I knew the answer.

Despite forgoing valuable business opportunities and precious time with our external family and friends, Mathieu and I experienced something money couldn’t buy. This could only be because we loved something more than 'success' as defined by culture.

Choose the right 'sue

When Victor Frankl wrote his first edition of Man Search For Meaning in 9 straight days as a prisoner in a Nazi concentration camp, he wanted to remain anonymous. But the opposite happened - it became the book he was known for. And for the rest of his life, Frankl would share what that taught him:

Don’t aim for success - the more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued. But you can intentionally put yourself on it’s path of trajectory. It must be ensued. And it only does so as the unintended side-effect of one’s dedication… success will follow you precisely because you had forgotten to think about it.

And if it doesn’t follow your kids? Could we call them unsuccessful?

The short of it?

As parents, ask yourself this question: why are my kids doing this in the first place? What is their purpose of education, on discovering themselves, on expressing their identities through creativity? Are they doing it simply because they love it?

There's nothing wrong with the intention to gain, but don't let it triumph your child's experiences. More importantly, and with my emphasis, don't let it decide what they should or should not do.

Sometimes, they need to do it for the sake of it.

Frankl said that the way a prisoner imagined the future affected his longevity. I reckon we could learn a thing from this - how do your children perceive the things they do each day? Is it sustainable? Will it help them survive this long journey of life?

Isenberg loved building companies. Djokovic loved winning championships. Kail loved directing musicals. Frankl loved the human mind. But while they had other goals and aspirations, they had one thing in common:

They did it for the love of it.

Be well,

Miss G (@gladyssoh)