Derek Sivers

I get this question a lot, so here's my honest answer.

(I haven't done this yet, but plan to. I listened to that Odysssey audiobook in two days of walking around Port Meadow, Oxford, and have been yearning to listen again.)

Imagine you're a ghost. You drift through the world but nobody sees you. You're disconnected.

I was dating for the first time, after a six year long relationship.

Sofia was my first big love. We met at 21, when we were both in the circus. She opened me up, and taught me how to be honest. I was absolutely certain that I was going to spend the rest of my life with her.

This is a real question. I don't know the answer and I'm curious.

I was 36, and had been living in Portland for two years. I saw an amazing house for sale — really amazing — stunning design, ideal location on the edge of the city, and its backyard was the start of a huge state park. I had a visceral reaction.

I'm going for the double meaning of “get me” that also means “understand me”.

According to statistics, I'm in the final third of my life. (I don't expect to beat the odds, because I inherited a cancer-creating genetic disorder.) So maybe it's the final quarter.

Because I was raised with no religion, I used to think they were all ridiculous.

My parents never mentioned God or any religion. Not necessarily atheist — nothing against. The subject just never came up.

Dismissing gives me a quick little lift.

Dubai was in my “Top 5 places where I NEVER want to go”. I heard it was commercialized hedonism, glorified overindulgence, pandering to millionaires and influencers — extravagance and opulence. Everything I hate. That's why I had never gone there.

Tomorrow you have plans to go to an event with a friend. You made the plans a month ago. You ask your friend, “Do you still want to go?”

I used to live in a basement apartment, next to the trash room. Rats were often blocking my door, and I could hear them walking in the ceiling right above me as I slept. I hated them so much that I happily killed as many as I could, with no remorse.

For many years, I was a touring musician, performing live on stage every week. But I didn't like attending concerts. I liked making music more than listening to music. I felt I must be in the wrong line of work, creating something that I don't consume. I never reconciled this feeling.

Not a new idea, but just another visualization and reminder.

You know that frustration of reading a book that should have been an article? Me too. So I try to do the opposite — to write so succinctly that you wish I would have said a little more. You complete it with your own thoughts.

I've asked my favorite musicians if, when they're done writing a new song, they feel it's the best song ever. All of them said yes.

I just got the call from the super-connected Alex Steininger that our mutual friend Ben Kihnel died in his sleep. He was only 48.

This is a lukewarm little story with a few connected bits, but it might be interesting or even helpful. Follow the links in it, for full effect. Esperanto start

People search for their passion or purpose. But “purpose” and “passion” are words we use when we're not working.

My band was playing a gig in Oslo, Norway, when I struck up a conversation with a woman who was staring at me. Turns out we had read many of the same books, and we were super-attracted to each other. We talked all night, but just as things got physical in my hotel room, house-keeping came knocking on the door saying we needed to check out now. Right now. Damn.

I forbid myself from anything too tempting or addicting. I keep no cookies in my home. To prevent myself from falling off the wagon, I strap myself to the mast.

In 2020, I was about to move to New York City. I wanted to get to know all of its ethnic enclaves, like visiting the whole world in one city. But I know I have a tendency to stay at home, immersed in my work.

When you think something nice about someone, you should tell them.

February 13 through 21, 2023, I went to Chennai and Bengaluru, India. My sole purpose was to meet new friends. I'm an “Overseas Citizen of India” and my son is half-Indian (Tamil). I will always have ties to India. I wanted to deepen those ties and make new connections.

Explorers poke through the unknown, experimenting, trying many little dead-ends.

When I was 21, I moved to New York City.

Because of my open inbox, I meet a lot of strangers. I love it. Almost everyone tells me who and where they are in the world. If they don't, I wonder.

My favorite moments in life are when someone shows me a new perspective — a way of thinking I had never considered.

Tyler Cowen is my favorite interviewer of all-time. His interviewing style has spoiled me for all others. He creates a tasting feast for the mind.

I like going to the source. Like finding musicians' influences, and getting to know that music too. Same with film, art, philosophy, and technology.

Kids scream, “Monster in the hallway!”, and hide behind the couch. They stack up cushions for protection, and plan their defense. They know it's not true — there's not really a monster in the hallway — but it's exciting to feel the adrenaline of panic, then make a shelter and feel safe.

In my previous post, “a daily run” — (please read it first) — running was a metaphor for whatever actions you take in your life. The story is about how we choose beliefs because they're useful, not true. Beliefs make emotions. Emotions make actions.

We all confabulate without realizing it.

Here's a story about my shortest date, and ketchup.

In 2011, I got a phone call from a number I didn't recognize.

I used to scoff at those people who had panic attacks. “The cake is late! Oh no! I'm freaking out! I can't breathe!” Ridiculous. Hysterical. Over-reacting.

My advice to anyone who writes: Try writing one sentence per line. I've been doing it for twenty years, and it improved my writing more than anything else.

Growing up in America, I didn't know much about other cultures.

My Sivers ancestors came from Grantham, Lincolnshire, England on a boat to America in 1849. The boat crashed on rocks in the Irish sea, caught fire in the Atlantic Ocean, got pushed off course repeatedly by storms, and finally landed in New Orleans after two months. New Orleans was overcome with cholera, so they hopped a steam boat up the Mississippi River to St. Louis. Cholera killed nine passengers and the pilot of the boat. Days after they arrived in St. Louis, the city caught fire so they escaped in a covered wagon to Glenwood Iowa, finally arriving after three more months. In 1890, one of their sons ventured to the wild west of Colorado to pursue an opportunity.

I was living on the beach in Santa Monica, California, and life was perfect. I was in paradise, and deeply happy.

I love having my own store so I can make things the way I think they should be.

I used to have too many pets.

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