Inverting this is useful: only buy things you need, with money you have, to impress people you like. Remember, anything you don’t buy, treat it like a 100% off discount.

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It can be brief, like being the only person not drinking at a party because you want to wake up without a hangover. When your friends all egg each other on, and you decline and say, “I’m not drinking tonight,” or “I don’t drink,” expect peer pressure.

It can involve a different multi-year commitment, like renting a property when most of the people you know have taken on a mortgage because you like the flexibility and want to do something else with the cash.

It can mean resetting an expectation for yourself, because life has asked something different of you. This often comes in the form of a setback. Maybe your friends all got offered jobs and you didn’t, or you experienced an injury and need time to heal.

If there was an opposite to peer pressure, it’s self approval. If you want to get better at dealing with peer pressure, and living a life that’s real to you, figuring out how to earn your own approval—and being accountable to yourself, showing pride when you behave in line with your values even if you look silly to your friends—is a step in the right direction.

Moving in line with self approval doesn’t necessarily get easier, but like everything else, you improve with practice. You also feel the early wins, which make practicing more rewarding. Giving into peer pressure feels gratifying in the moment, but usually worse over time.

The more people you try to impress, the less yourself you can be. Impress as few people as possible.

When you cave into peer pressure, you condition your friends to push you; when you align with self approval, you condition your friends to respect you. You may lose some friends along the way.

The people you want around you are the ones who want you to win at being you, and aren’t afraid to win at being themselves.

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The problem is it’s not so easy to shape this sense of satisfaction. Companies collectively spend over a trillion dollars to shape your desires and persuade you to make change. People are constantly on social media influencing each other. A saying attributed to Arthur Schopenhauer goes, “A man can do as he will, but not will as he will.”

Rene Girard’s mimetic theory suggests that you want what the people around you want.

One solution is to figure out what your core values are—your authentic desires—and to focus on taking action that aligns with them. 

Still, an awareness of your conscious values may clash with your unconscious desires. The key to alignment is in your physical and social environment. If you can shape your environment, you can also influence what you want. 

If you want to want something different, then you need to either reshape your environment or change it entirely.

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Chasing the ecstasy of the first win leads you to future losses. It gives you a false sense of confidence, leading you to think you’re in control, and to do something you’ll regret.

Gambling isn’t just an act, it’s an attitude and mindset. Winning any type of gamble should be a warning sign to get out.

The pain of losing a gamble is useful because it discourages you from losing more. The first step to getting out of a hole is to stop digging.

Investing is not the same as gambling. If you can’t tell the difference, you’re gambling.

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The music I listened to in high school, the language I spoke, my interests and friends, none of them suggested to him that I would make a decision to move to Hong Kong. It was entirely improbable to him.

One of the most useful things you can do as a creative person, especially as a writer, is to live an interesting life. Often, that means doing things that are improbable. Friends and family may not understand the decision very well, expect it from you, or be able to relate.

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“JOMO,” which stands for, “Joy of Missing Out,” is a fulfilling experience. The reward of JOMO is the feeling of purpose you earn by behaving in a way that’s true to yourself. It’s the same feeling of fulfillment you feel when you behave with integrity.

JOMO comes with a price, of course: you’ll need to miss out and develop the courage to commit to that.

Here are some questions worth asking: 

Do I actually want the thing? Or do I just want to keep up? 

Do I want to avoid not having the thing just because I want to keep up? 

Can I “win” by keeping up, or am I trying to “win” by going further? Is this achievable? 

Can I be the one people keep up with? What will it cost me to keep up? 

Will the reward of keeping up be worth the effort, time, and money?

Many of my friends are starting to have children, so that’s the main example that comes to mind. My partner and I are still deciding; however if we decide to sit it out, we will both need to accept the cost that comes with sitting out. We will miss out on the parenting experience, as well as a chance to get to watch children grow up. The friends that choose to have children will inevitably drift much closer together and away from us.

Funny enough, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve missed out on something. Here are a couple of “important” things I have missed out on:

The 2010s Toronto condo boom: Many of my friends bought condos in Toronto during the 2010s, as prices were increasing year after year. Some made a tidy profit from it. At the time, I was working independently and didn’t want to overextend myself, and I didn’t feel as much conviction that the prices were going to keep going up. I didn’t doubt it, I just didn’t accept the reasoning of, “It’s gone up every year!” I feel glad I questioned the assumption, now that we are in the so-called Toronto condo recession of the 2020s, but I had no idea it was going to happen.

If I committed to a condo and a mortgage, I would need to take less risk with my career and personal life. I took a year off to write Creative Doing. I ended up moving to Hong Kong and New York City in the early 2020s. I’m sure I could’ve sold my condo or rented it out, but that commitment would’ve created a greater sense of inertia. Maybe I wouldn’t have written or moved at all. 

Instead of investing in a condo, I invested my cash in stocks and ETFs. However, I’m not able to feel the pride of saying, “I’m a homeowner.” I thought, for sure, I’d feel inferior to my friends, but this hasn’t been the case; maybe because now that I’m in a position to buy, I intentionally choose not to. 

My friends started a business together: In the mid-2010s, my friends started a company and I was invited to join. My plate was very full at the time, and the company wasn’t able to afford my rates, so I declined, though I pitched in efforts as a friend would.

For my friends, this company was their primary focus, work inevitably came up during the time we all spent together. Because I wasn’t a part of the company, I couldn’t really contribute. They shared inside jokes that I had no idea about. They also shared personal life updates in the company Slack, which I didn’t have access to. Friendships come in seasons, and this was the company’s season, which I wasn’t a part of. Even though it was my decision, I felt completely iced out, and it was very painful. I handled this as gracefully as I could.

As I reflected, I realized that monetary compensation and stock equity—the professional rewards—were just a part of the experience. Getting to know each other better as people was another part of this. I wasn’t comfortable with the business terms being offered, though, so I needed to miss out. A few years later, the company was acquired, and everyone moved on to the next part of their careers. It felt natural to drift together and be friends again as each of us explored what was next. In the meantime, since I moved, I also made new friends.

There’s a lot more I could write about here, like declining an opportunity to interview at Shopify in the 2010s, missing out on the 2010s crypto run, etc. 

What I choose to take away is that while missing out felt painful, it was very recoverable, and those tradeoffs also provided me with the fertile ground I needed to do what I’m doing today. I got to live in three different countries. I wrote Creative Doing, I’m about to publish The Consistency Journal, and I continue to work independently with tech companies on business writing.

The courage to miss out could also be rephrased as, “The courage to commit.” There’s no life without missing out.

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The iPhone needed fixing, and procrastinating on it wasn’t useful. Deciding to do something about it was. Paying a little more wasn’t a big deal, especially compared to the business opportunities in front of me. I realized I could either continue to drain myself for a small expense, or let it go and focus on the projects in front of me. I had, unknowingly, engaged in maladaptive frugality.

For me, it started from a young age, during which frugality was framed as a virtue and mindless spending as, practically, sinful. During one of my parents’ anniversary dinners, they ate takeout, and my dad decided to use it as a teachable moment. What I took away: eating at a good restaurant was bad, taking out cheap food was good because it saved money. 

My parents grew up in Hong Kong, and the people there have a lot of useful stories about saving money. A writer describes being frugal in Hong Kong, “There are cultural and economic reasons why frugality runs deep here. Many families carry memories of instability—economic downturns, business failures, illness, or the pressure of supporting relatives. For others, the habit is inherited: parents who lived through leaner periods teach children to treat spending as a moral hazard rather than a tool.” 

Matthew Hung describes Hong Kong being colonized by the UK, “Engaging in the free market gave a freedom to those blocked from democracy by allowing them an alternative context from which to improve their own situation, albeit at the individual level rather than the collective level of citizenship.”

My parents carried that attitude with them to Canada, and I also grew up practicing and valuing frugality. It has been very useful at times (including being able to travel for less!), and very limiting at others. Here’s an example, which I wrote about a couple of years ago:

I have a hard time spending, to the point where I would often procrastinate on buying things that I know I’ll need in the future. And of course, I don’t have it when I need it because I didn’t buy it… so I decided to restrain my obsession with not spending. Make good systems-level decisions and give consideration/consultation to high impact decisions, and also be ok paying $30 to book an airline seat earlier. I plan to have fun spending my money in the future, so it’s time to start practicing now.

When you default to the lowest cost option without considering the drawbacks, procrastinating or hesitating on spending, or guilt tripping yourself about an essential expense or making a recoverable mistake, you’re engaging in maladaptive frugality. 

The most useful thing you can do is be mindful of it and try to draw yourself into the present moment. As Tim Ferriss asks, “What does your last year—not your childhood beliefs—tell you about where you might invest more for a higher quality of life?”

When you make frugality your servant, it can offer you freedom. When you make frugality your master—maladaptive frugality—it traps you and limits your possibilities.

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Giving up means accepting the loss. It means letting go of the past, moving on, and eventually replacing what you lost.

If you try to recover what you lost, the reward is recovery. It’s possible it was damaged or won’t be the same, or it might be too late. Someone else found what you lost. Tracing your steps might take too long, and feel very confusing. All you can control is the effort, the attempt.

The other day, I realized I lost a pair of sunglasses that I’d grown very fond of. I’d worn them in the same hour, but I couldn’t put my finger on where they might be. I decided to quickly retrace my steps. At the second stop, my sunglasses were sitting right where I’d sat, and I realized they’d slipped out of my pockets. 

I happily scooped them up and went on with my day. Every time I wear them now feels special, like bonus time.

There are economic rewards: I saved money, because I didn’t need to buy a new pair of sunglasses. I also saved time, I didn’t need to go too long without a pair. 

The most rewarding element was a story: Anyone can give up. That’s the status quo, and the easy option. I could have easily shrugged my shoulders, saved myself from potential disappointment, and told myself, “No, the glasses are lost now.” Knowing you lost something and that you have the agency to find it is the real reward. 

Actually finding something you lost is just the cherry on top.

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Would you be able to get along with your day, albeit with less efficiency? 

Or would you be completely in the dark, and need to learn all of the skills you’d outsourced? What habits and practices can you depend on to create and deliver value?

What technical skills and exercises do you have to generate your own creative ideas? 

At the extreme of enfeeblement, you get the people in WALL-E, whose lifestyles have made it so they’re not able to walk on their own two feet.

If you depend on having AI double check everything, or come up with ideas for you, that’s what you’re setting yourself up for. You need to be able to work without it, just in case, the same way you need to be able to do simple math in case you can’t use a calculator (or aren’t in a situation where it’s appropriate).

The ideas of independence and sovereignty are the opposite of enfeeblement.

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Thanks for being a good friend. Thanks for being you.

Thanks for encouraging me with my writing, including reading the very rough first draft of Creative Doing. Thanks for writing your blog. 

Thanks for reading and sharing your ideas.

Thanks for asking thoughtful questions and listening.

Thanks for living your life so fully, for being an inspiration, for seeking mastery, and chasing your dreams in spite of all the setbacks. Your effort took you around the world, including the Olympics, and your career was starting to enter its crescendo. It pains me to think of what you would have accomplished if only you had more time. Thanks for helping Canada reach the Olympics stage.

Thanks for learning to be less hard on yourself, so the rest of us could learn.

Thanks for living in a way worth remembering. Thanks for sharing a piece of yourself with all of your friends. When the world feels a little less bright without your presence, I try to remember that you’re with us in spirit.

Thanks for the season of BIGS.

You’ll be missed, and very deeply remembered.

Your website is no longer around, so I wanted to share three of your blog posts in their entirety below:

Hello World.

Originally posted by Faiz Ahmed on December 28, 2020.

I don’t live a conventional life – I live in polarity. My strict morning routine lasts three hours. It consists of what I must get done. Calm mind, healthy body. Then I start my day. From this point on everything I do feels like play. This can be reading, film study, prompted reflection, imagining or simply getting bored. 

With this freedom. I explore the opposite. I ask questions of the unknown. I apply mental models across disciplines. I will make errors – we can examine them together. I love to change my mind and indulge in different perspectives. I hope my articles do the same for you.

In 2020, I have called four different cities home. In 2016 I took seven flights in six weeks to work with the elite players and coaches. This took me to Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Chicago, St. Louis and Iowa. I’ll find the best wherever they are. This persistent pursuit is what led me to coach professional basketball overseas and build my professional clientele back home. 

My experience has been atypical. As I reflect through the recordings of my journal I recognized I needed a place to share my experiences, thoughts and the learnings that have resulted. That is this blog. Most success stories have the benefit of hindsight. Here, I will chronicle my thinking as it moulds. We’ll witness the failures and successes – but most important will be a glimpse into the process. Don’t be surprised to see different beliefs across time. Or even in the same article.

These days typically what’s on my mind is productivity, philosophy, pedagogy. I believe these three connect me back to my purpose – using passions to level up on the ‘Path of Mastery’.

I’d like this blog to be a conversation. Comments are encouraged. Thank you for reading and being a part of my journey.

A Letter to 19 Year Old Faiz

Originally posted by Faiz Ahmed on April 4, 2021.

Dear 19 Year Old Faiz,

Get up off the ground, wipe your eyes – he is right, you are not good enough. This isn’t for you. It hurts, I know. Years from now we’re going to do great things, all of which will stem from the scarring this pain will leave.

Nobody cares that you had a spot on the team until they got an unexpected transfer. Nobody cares that you were three weeks removed from being hospitalized from exhaustion. Nobody cares about the work you put in. The three-a-days on top of an active full time job. The 3:30AM alarms. Trying to find an extra 90 minutes by sleeping in your car in the gym parking lot on the nights you stayed until it closed and had to be the first one on the court when it opened.

You’re here wondering if you did enough. Believe me, you did more than enough. You’ll come to learn that. Because it is here that the foundation of your character was cemented.

19 Y/O Faiz raining it from 3. Does he make it? The fans already know.

You’ve been on your strength and agility program but struggled to stay in front of their new guard. You’ve been shooting 70%+% on your catch and shoot 3s in training. But it didn’t show today on-court. Why not? From this moment on your life will be a search to answer questions for what you could have done different, better? This journey is going to lead you to me, thirty-year-old Coach Faiz.

First, you’ll question your body. Were you enough of an athlete to be a basketball player? You’ll search for the best strength coaches of any sport to learn how you could have trained different. This is going to lead you to some of the best coaches from any sport in Canada. They are going to teach you how the body works, how to coach, and how to build an athlete over time. These will be some of the best classroom years of your life. Cherish them.

The understanding of the body, the athlete. This will serve as the basis for you to understand skill development differently. In turn, giving you an understanding for how to train for sport differently. Shortly after, you will find yourself translating Long Term Athlete Development from building an athlete to building a basketball player. You’ll spend time interning at Canada Basketball in Coaching Education. A fly on the wall soaking up everything you can. Your internship will end, but you’ll never leave. They don’t know this. Heck, you don’t know this yet either.

After learning from some of the best coaches in Canada you’ll continue your search to learn from the best. You’ll take eight separate flights in one single month during the summer of 2016. That entire summer will be spent in the gym. 8am to 8pm will be common, watching film during any break you have, keeping a secret that many nights you were unsure where you’d be sleeping. And you’ll learn player development from one of the best in the business. But, something will shift in you as you coach alongside him. He’ll trust you with some of his top guys. You’ll learn you can be among the best. That shift is essential. That summer, you’ll be in the gym with current and future stars of the NBA. You’ll get to watch Beal’s silent work ethic. How detail oriented Lavine gets when learning a skill. You’ll witness the emergence of Embiid and Tatum. See Clarkson and Galloway go at each other in competitive shooting drills. Feel what it’s like to defend a number one draft pick in Wiggins. Observe the focus of an NBA vet like David Lee. You’ll work with pros. You’ll teach G League players how to prepare for the NBA. Here you’ll learn how specific attention to the little details matter, how to build a player for the body they have and the importance of training decision making. Rewind a couple years and this information would have changed the player you were. Fast forward a couple years, and you’ll be applying this with pros of your own.

And a crazy thing will happen, not just here, but throughout your journey. Idols will become friends. NBA Vets, Rising Stars, Olympians past, present and future. By the end of that summer you’ll be hanging around $200+ million of new NBA money. You’ll witness the glamour of it all. The money, the celebrity, and the power. It could be enough to change the meaning of the game for anyone. You’ll head home. But you’ll stop in Iowa on your way for two weeks of camp. You’ll coach a group of young girls and ‘together on three’ your confidence will grow. A few weeks away from potentially becoming a corporate-corrupted soul, you’ll have a mom chase after you in a gym to tell you her daughter had been planning to quit basketball. But she called home the night before and said she had the best coach, loves basketball again, and wants to continue. You’ll turn, run, and get caught crying in a storage closet by one of the best coaches in the world. It’ll cleanse your soul. You’ll be ready to come home and grow the game on local soil.

You’ll bring all this knowledge home. Alongside one of your best friends, you will build one of the best high school programs in Canada. During this time you’ll work with some of the top talent in Canada and be a small part of their bright futures. In fact, right now there are 18 players from your high school teams currently playing NCAA. But it’s not all fun times. You’ll watch kids get cut. For some reason it’s always the kids on the outskirts that you will be drawn towards. Or the ones with the stupid hard work ethic. These kids will come to you for guidance. In a span of four years, six kids that got cut from the National Team come to you. Trust you. And one year later, they’ll make it.

A pattern will emerge of unraveling why you couldn’t make it. You’ll start asking the questions, finding the answers. Then finding an up and coming player who can put the knowledge to use.

Another pattern will emerge as well. Each year, after the season ends you’ll wonder if that was it. If you’ll ever coach again. Are you good enough for this? Are you willing to continue the sacrifice it takes to stay on the path of your dreams? When will it all align? You won’t see the next opportunity, one that will allow you to keep this going. 

Coaching pro basketball means quick decisions in the heat of battle.

Finally, when you are truly clueless about where to go next, you’ll get offered your first Full-Time coaching job. Here you will coach and live with young athletes who are on the verge of stardom. It will all be coming together and becoming real. You’ll see the path to making this your future and stop having to ask whether basketball can remain in your life.

Then, one day, you’ll wake up in an ambulance, hooked up to all types of machines, making all types of noises. Too much to even register. And the question will move from if you’ll coach next year to if you’ll ever coach again.

The doctors will see something, something that needs to be removed. You’re headed for brain surgery. They’ll discuss the risks involved. Honestly, I don’t remember what they were because when they said there was a 10% chance you might lose your ability to move your left arm. All I thought was that I might never shoot a basketball again. And at that point, nothing else mattered. 

In the next few weeks there will be a bunch of scary words thrown around. Don’t worry, with time you will learn to accept them. They will become a part of you, of your story, of your soul. And there is nothing scary about that.

The surgery was a success. Being tested in the operating room for function of your limbs, the form still looked good. But it wasn’t just the jump shot that remained. Many people assumed that the Faiz they knew would be no more. But through all this you preserved the spirit of a Warrior. Perseverance, perspective and a dedication to challenging yourself to go beyond – skills fostered through sport, were all called upon. 

In the Operating room testing function.

‘Lift your left arm’.

*Shoots a jumper*

‘How does my form look Doc?’

Post-surgery, as you pumped your chest down the hall proclaiming, “I’m a fucking beast!” to everyone you passed (they needed to know). You began your process of healing. The surgeon said it would be a minimum of six months. You were back to your team within the month. No one can ever tell you that you don’t have love for this game.

It hurt to get cut. To be told you’re not good enough. But without that, would all of this have been possible? Trust that this worked out for the best, because it did.

Now sit down for a moment and let me tell you what is most important. I’ve come to learn that your greatest superpower lies right beside your greatest wound. It’s kind of crazy to look back at everything we’ve been through, but I have to admit that this moment here is the deepest pain. Your dream of playing may be cut here. But your superpower is to ignite love for basketball, and help players to rediscover it. Match that with your ability to put them on the path to Mastery. And watch a generation of athletes achieve their dreams.

And they do care. They care when they see how much work you put into this, even though you try to hide it from them. They care when they see how much extra you are willing to invest in them, even though you see it as the least you could do. And they care for you when they see you care for them as a whole person, even though you couldn’t picture coaching any other way. So continue to care in everything you do and for everyone life brings your way.

MadLove,

30-year-old Faiz

Daring Magnificent Brave

Originally posted by Faiz Ahmed on September 22, 2021.

Reader,

This is not for you. It is for someone I know struggling right now. Struggling to grasp, onto something. Anything. But you, the reader. I hope you remember these words. When life feels like a Slip N’ Slide. And you feel yourself

Falling,

Falling.

Falling… with nothing to hold on to.

Because that moment will come. It does for everyone. Often. When you least anticipate.

And too commonly, when you believe you have laid the last brick of your safe castle.

It happens to everyone, at any moment.

And this is what I need. You, whom this letter is for. To understand right now. What you are feeling is universally felt. To different degrees, for different lengths. And in response to different triggers.

You may feel alone. But in what you feel – you are not alone.

And you have every reason to feel alone.

Those meant to support you, and keep you safe. Turned into the living danger you face.

Those now relying on your support, adding weight to already heavy shoulders.

Those dreams of your future. The potential antidote to your past. Dreams that were ripped away. Unfairly. Dreams you are attempting to resuscitate. Dreams so big, so scary.

But you are not alone. Few weeks have passed since we, your friends and I got together to celebrate you. You, for what you accomplished.

And what was repeated constantly. Was not only your most recent milestone. But a celebration of your repeated bravery to share your gifts with the world.

So, on behalf of those that love you. I have a request.

Be selfish.

For us.

It is the most selfless thing you can do.

Timeline is one framework used for contrasting depression and anxiety. Depression lives in the past. Anxiety lives in the future. Both are felt in the present. Because now is all we have.

I imagine you are bouncing back and forth between the two. As you plot a future to slay the demons still lurking from your past. While keeping serious obligations in mind.  

I don’t blame you for it. No one does. Okay maybe just one, maybe just you.

Take ten seconds to breathe. Ten minutes to meditate. Ten hours to sprawl out with your journal. Whatever you need.

And in that time, I hope you come back to a truth you know all too well. That nothing truly exists. Except,

Here and now.

Here and now.

Is all we have – this moment.

And when you come back to that foundational truth.

I think you’ll find the foundation that you have been searching for.

A foundation for a house with a guest room. So your demons can visit. But not stay.

A foundation to keep your family safe.

A foundation you can build your dreams on.

So go on. Break another barrier.

For you. For whom this letter is for. Go on, be selfish. Take care of yourself. Embody the strong body, mind and spirit we know to be you. Protect those around you by being an example of how to protect yourself.

Be creative, be courageous. And give us; the fans of you. A reason to keep the celebrations going.

Lastly. When you are ready, pick up the phone. No rush. No timelines. Just a pulse.

And to the readers that made it this far. I appreciate you. Know that I am here for you too.

Love,

Faiz Ahmed

Some more great posts:

• Let Go of Your Goals
• Separate Yourself
• Let’s Talk Communication
• Plan Your Ideal Day
• BIGS – My Most Reliable Productivity Tool

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