This is a free newsletter from AS about recovery, guy stuff, and how to live a life with dignity. If you like it, consider sharing it with a friend who’d also find it useful.

The realization that my own death holds the key to appreciating life came to me at 2:45 in the morning. Our youngest was grappling with the joy and horror of teething. Doesn’t teething sound cute AF? Like fuzzy bunnies or happy bumblebees?

Let me rephrase: for weeks on end, all four canines were savaging baby gums without the sweet comfort of novocaine.

When I’m woken up like that, my initial response is a simple “What the actual fuck?” No need to check my phone – it’s pitch black and I know I should be asleep right now.

If it’s my turn, I stumble into their room and a new thought enters my head: This could be worse. You could be among the dead.

I find comfort as I comfort them, until everyone’s back asleep. Yeah this blows, but it pales to being in a casket.

No Nirvana

I wish I didn’t have to resort to extremes. That all those downward dogs and sessions on the climbing wall created a profound sense of inner peace that allows me to enjoy this moment of teeth terror.

But they don’t. I’m not that guy.

I’m the guy who’s tired by ten, hangry at eleven, and loses his shit in gridlock traffic. I can’t smile - I need to escape.

The only trick that seems to work without fail is death. I need death to enter the picture and change my perspective.

Oh you’re hungry? Look loser, your grandmother lived in Auschwitz and went on a death march. You’re stuck in traffic? There’s a four-way pileup ahead with multiple fatalities. It’s in their fictional and real-life demise (my grandma actually stayed in the concentration camps in ‘44) that I feel serene. It’s not that bad dude, and it could be much, much worse.

We’re all going to die

This useful tool isn’t reserved for the early hours.

I use my “You’re going to die” lifeline a lot, especially on days when my motivation is in the toilet and I just don’t want to do anything. I feel aimless and apathetic. And for those with addictive tendencies like me, apathy is a dangerous drug. Apathy means I’m not on a path - I’ve lost focus.

Ryan Holiday sells coins with the reminder: “Memento Mori.” Ultramarathoner and all-around savage David Goggins writes about stacking the odds in your favor by living with a sense of urgency. (P.S. Here’s my fav Goggin’s short ever) In the Book of Tehillim, they write: “Teach us that our days are numbered, so we will gain a heart of wisdom.” (90:12)

Whatever mantra you choose, take a moment and remember this truth: this ride eventually stops. There is a finish line. The grains of sand in the hourglass will run out, and no one is coming to flip it over again.

(For the sake of this argument, let’s put aside the idea that you’ll be reincarnated as a dolphin or a snake.) Your present incarnation will expire, so get up and make the most of it. Tomorrow is out of our control, but the next hour is.

Unless you’re cuddling a teething baby right now, in which case, I’m sorry. Whisper the truth: this too shall pass.

4 Things Right Now

Things I find insightful, interesting, and useful.

1. Read: Holly Whitaker’s substack, Recovering. I’m obsessed, and just bought a bunch of books she recommends. I like her newsletter format and stole her idea of recommending things. Thanks Holly.

2. Listen: Yuval Harari on the crisis of AI.

3. Use: This Statology gel pen from Shorthand.

4. Read: The Wager - a story of shipwrecks and mutiny my brother-in-law reco’d to me. I’m a fan of historical epics, especially after the eye-opening account of US/Comanche wars and history in Empire of the Summer Moon.