Hey there,

Welcome back.

Here’s what I have for you this week:

• One big thing. What do you want to be when you grow up? The comfort tax and the potential gap.

• You have to check this out. The most important question of your life, plus the first of many Peter Attia recommendations.

• Tools & Tech. A wallet stand.

Grab a second cup of coffee and let’s get into it.

1️⃣ ONE BIG THING

Dancing on the edge of failure.

Last May, I played a support role as my cousin completed a 100-mile ultra trail run in the mountains of North Carolina.

He started at 5:00 am on a Friday and finished at 7:00 pm on Saturday.

He wasn’t alone. As other family members and I waited for him to emerge from the edge of the forest to cross the finish line, a stunning variety of body types and age ranges ambled past the final 100-mile marker.

I’ll be honest: Months later, I still cannot wrap my head around moving forward incessantly for 35-plus hours. Up steep grades. Through a 2:00 am hail storm. And for at least 25 of those hours, fighting back an angry chorus of inner voices begging you to stop.

Seeing this struggle up close cemented one idea: I never want to do that. Pass. No, thank you. Unsubscribe.

But… it also cultivated a second idea: I bet I could finish a 15-mile event.

Your comfort zone is closing in on you.

I slept well last night. The covers kept me warm, and the A/C kicked in to keep it from getting too warm. This morning, I rolled out of bed, took six steps, and flushed yesterday’s hydration out of sight and smell. I pressed a button and transformed my unlimited supply of disease-free water into soul-nourishing coffee.  

Our modern lives are nothing short of a miracle.

For that, I am thankful. I have zero interest in giving any of it up.

But for all of this comfort, we pay a hidden cost: Two versions of a comfort tax with sneaky strength.

The first comfort tax is anxiety creep.

Our lives have gotten more and more comfortable, and yet things like dissatisfaction and anxiety have not gone away. How can that be?

It turns out we evolved as a species with a built-in state of dissatisfaction. Back in the day, if we sat contentedly around the campfire for three months without hunting or gathering, we would have died out long ago without ever inventing the coffee machine.

“While human progress has changed daily life dramatically, the vestige of our drive to escape discomfort is a hard-to-shake feeling that nothing is ever good enough,” Nir Eral explains.

Researchers have given this a name only academics could love: "prevalence-induced concept change." Harvard psychologist David Levari documented the idea through various studies. Michael Easter popularized it in his book The Comfort Crisis.

In one such study, people were first shown photos of (to keep this simple) 100 human faces, where 25 of the 100 were of “threatening” faces. As expected, participants flagged about 25 of the photos as threatening.

Then researchers showed them 100 more photos. This time only 10 of the 100 photos were of faces considered threatening, and yet…

People still flagged about 25 of the photos as threatening. People started to see neutral faces as threatening.

Our default state of dissatisfaction means we do not always see our situation accurately. We are prone to see problems that don’t exist. Or to elevate things that are not truly problems into anxiety-inducing threats. Thanks for nothing, evolution.

Believing your comfort zone will ever be truly comfortable is a fallacy. Outside threats, real or perceived, will always be with you.

Retreating from one set of threats only shrinks your comfort zone. As your comfort zone shrinks, so does your life. Here is my incredibly fancy drawing of what I mean:

The second comfort tax is the potential gap.

There is always a gap between who you are and who you could be.

When you are younger, this gap is stated as: What do I want to be when I grow up?

Even if you didn’t know the answer, the tension between current-you and potential-you propelled you forward. Like stretching a rubber band, the greater the gap between current-you and potential-you, the more energy there was.

Now that we’re older, we no longer have an obvious “What do you want to be when you grow up?” question animating our lives.

Potential-you still exists. But the more your expectation of comfort reduces your tolerance for discomfort, the less aware and confident you become of your potential.

Here is an even fancier illustration of this “potential gap”:

Dr. Marcus Elliot works with professional athletes like NBA players Kyle Korver and Luka Doncic as part of the Peak Performance Project. In addition to data-driven biometrics, he believes in building mental and spiritual fortitude through something called misogi challenges.

As you explore the edges of your potential, the outer boundaries of your potential zone expand. Those boundaries shrink as you avoid discomfort, sidestep challenges, and retreat toward your comfort zone.

When your potential zone shrinks, so does that rubber band of tension between who you are and who you could be. And that gap is the very thing that animates your life.

The project of becoming potential-you is a powerful source of meaning in life.

Three in four Americans say they lack a clear sense of purpose and what makes their lives meaningful.

Combined with chasing shadows from the anxiety-creep comfort tax—viewing minor hurdles in life as serious, anxiety-producing threats—the loss of meaning shows we pay a steep, hidden cost for our modern comforts.

Ways to dance on the edge of failure:

How can you explore what exists on the edges of your potential? A few thoughts:

1. Go observe other people pushing boundaries. As I did by watching the 100-mile trail run, go see for yourself what the outer bounds of human potential look like (not on TV). Suddenly, shorter challenges will enter your orbit as maybe I could.

2. Start with 2%. Check out Michael Easter’s approach to starting with 2%.

3. Sign up for something. Register for something outside of your comfort zone. A 10k walk/run, a public speaking class, or your own misogi challenge. Do not sign up for a 100-mile trail run. That is a recipe for actual failure. Don’t break your rubber band like a madman.

4. Start working toward something scary of your own design. I’d love to hear what it is. If you are open to share, let me know by repying to this email.

I’m writing this letter to you from Live Oak, Florida.

As I write, it is Friday. Tomorrow, I will run the 25k Wild Florida Trail Run.

Here’s one thing I know and one thing I believe:

I know, at 52, I will be in some pain during the event and (especially) after it. I will curse three-months-ago me for thinking this was a good idea.

I believe I will finish. And if a falling tree, ill-tempered rattler, or freak injury do not take me out, I know I will finish.

If you know someone that would benefit from these ideas, feel free to forward this email to them.

That’s all for this week.

I’m trying to grow this newsletter, so if you are enjoying it, I would appreciate your help spreading the word to other Gen-Xers. Just forward this email to someone, or send them this link (news.secondactcreator.com/subscribe).

It means a lot.

Enjoy your Sunday,