This analogy works for so many facets of my life. I remember when I first started riding with other people. I had been riding trails by myself for a couple of years. (Mountain biking wasn't very popular in Eastern Tennessee at the turn of the century.) The guys I started riding with had better bikes and way more experience than I did. Initially, I thought these full-squish monster truck bikes they were riding were the reason they were able to ride so many sections cleaner and faster than me. They pointed out that I wasn't looking ahead enough. I was completely focused on what was right in front of my wheel. I had never thought of looking ahead to plan a line before I got there. This was also how I had lived my life so far. Planning for the future wasn't a part of my family's culture. There was no plan. There was only adapt. I took pride in my ability to adapt, but I didn't realize how effective having a longer term plan was. Not hopes, dreams, and wishes, but a well thought out plan, based on experience, reflection, and refinement. Eventually I got comfortable with looking further down the trail, and not worrying so much about what was right in front of my wheel. I began to plan my line well before I got to the obstacles. It took years before I was able to apply this concept to my finances. I am still not a slow and steady rider. I don't know if I ever will be, but I have learned to look ahead, build momentum, and power through obstacles. Walking feels like failure, but sometimes it is necessary. The goal is still ahead, and there is still plenty of opportunity to jump back on the saddle.

@Rory Piontkowski Self-indulgent? Of course it's self indulgent! We inherit our parents flaws, and not many people evolve past them. Celebrate that shit!

I detest modern, consumer grade furniture. It's all glue, sawdust, and stickers. I often fantasize about making my own. I watch videos of makers, with all their power tools, dedicated workshops, and exotic materials. The money it would require to buy all of this stuff seems daunting, so I keep fantasizing instead of planning and practicing. Then there are the videos from the rest of the world: traditional Japanese joinery, Europeans' penchant for hand saws, and guys from south-east Asia who can rebuild an engine with a rock and torch. Our consumerist culture doesn't promote the simple basics. We live in a "make the money, buy the shortcut" society. But it's never a shortcut. It's a trap. Instead of improving yourself, pursuing your interests, chasing your own dreams, you allow yourself to being duped into working for someone else's dream (who you probably don't even like). FU Money buys food, shelter, and time, for those curious enough to learn how to create something, and are disciplined enough to follow through.

I would only do woodworking for my own personal satisfaction, for my own needs, or gifts for friends and family. If I had FU money, I'd have a bike shop, with a taco trailer out front, a shuttle van in the back, and a mini excavator for trail building. Probably the worst possible financial endeavor imaginable. Have I ever actually sat down and tried to run the numbers, what would it actually take? No. So far, I've spent the past few years trying to figure out how I can get something like the Salt Lake Bicycle Collective thing going, using my current job as an in. I've had some encouraging conversations with a few people around the state, and I think I can start making something happen in the next year. Ideally, that could become my main focus eventually. An NPO seems like the most likely path forward.

I've had at least 5 major resets in my adult life. I didn't know how I was going to move forward. I didn't know what I was going to do, where I was going to work, or where I was going to live. I went through the phases of anger, blame, and shame, but that shit was depressing. Nietzsche said "He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into thee." Depression and hopelessness is that monster. Fear of the monster always drove me to action. I had to do something, anything. Any forward momentum meant not facing the void, and, as always, momentum would always slowly build.

I don't think my dad ever held a job for more than 18 months at a time. His bipolar and narcissistic personality disorders made him an unpredictable asshole. My mom occasionally had a part-time job, but spent most of her time raising 5 kids. We moved almost every year. I went to 5 different elementary schools. By the time I was in middle school, my parents had run out of options and had to move us into government housing projects. Shame and anger were my most prevalent emotions during the next 7 years. The beginning of my sophomore year, I was expelled. I spent the next 3 years in and out of juvenile programs, which was better than being at home. Luckily, a few of my friends and girlfriends had amazing moms. They provided an example of what a functional family looked like. They were examples of what success looked like. They treated me like part of their family. After the juvenile programs and high school, I still struggled with anger and self-discipline, but these moms still continued to support and guide me. They helped me want to do better and be better. I'd like to say this was the beginning of my meteoric rise to success, but it wasn't. I went through a lot of jobs and semi-successful semesters of college, trying to find my place. I didn't make a lot of forward academic or financial progress. I did avoid legal trouble, and began to temper a lot of my bad habits and emotions. At 27, I decided to move across the country, 1,911 miles away from home. I think this is the best thing almost every young person can do. Going back home wasn't an option for me. I wanted to give these moms, that had been so important to me, some indication that all of their love and support had made a real difference. It's taken about 20 years, but I am at a place in life where I feel like I have achieved some level of professional success. I still talk to 2 of these moms. I still celebrate my small success stories with them. I live a life that my parents never would have never dreamed of living. I have escaped the generational traps of poverty, abuse, and struggles with mental health. I want Dianne and Elizabeth (the two moms) to see and understand how effective their example and influence on my life was. (I think there is a compounding interest analogy here.)

@Rory Piontkowski Eventually novelty will not produce a dopamine effect. Novelty becomes mundane. Or... You could end up on Epstein Island, pushing the boundaries of novelty. I don't either are healthy, for anyone.

Blame and complaining have always been viral. It's too easy to jump on the complain train. It can also be economically or politically beneficial. If you can avoid or redirect blame, you get to avoid consequences. It's a win at any cost mentality. For regular people, I think blaming and complaining are strategies that attempt to avoid change and mask insecurities and inadequacies.