“Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.”
Naval Ravikant may not be a billionaire, but he is successful by my standards. Why? Because, at 47, he smiles more than my 7-year-old brother.
Naval has had a pretty busy life. He’s the founder and ex-CEO of AngelList, reportedly a $100+ million company. He has invested early stage in over 200 companies, including Uber and Twitter. And yet, after an intense career in Palo Alto, the man remains a beacon of inner peace and common sense.
One question he asked completely annihilated my understanding of mindfulness:
“If you’re so smart and capable, why can’t you figure out how to be happy?”
The founder says it’s hard, nowadays, for him to be around other people. Or, rather, it’s hard for them to be around him. See, they’re not used to a person who is always smiling.
You have 4,906 unread emails.
My summer was pretty exhausting. Not because I accomplished a lot — but because I was always doing something. I wake up, I brush my teeth, I eat the sandwich, I get to work, I call a friend, I watch a show, I go to sleep.
I made zero progress this summer. I didn’t advance in my career. I didn’t create anything remotely interesting. I didn’t form any lasting relationships. I didn’t even have any life-changing epiphanies. It was all just a series of things that I did. It all feels like a boring dream I’m about to forget.
Naval Ravikant spent his summer differently. In fact, he lives his entire life differently.
“I almost hate calling it meditation. […] It’s literally just walking around.”
What does Naval understand that I don’t? Why does one of my heroes spend time deliberately doing nothing, “paying attention to his own thoughts?”
I decided to copy his approach. I deliberately made time in my day when I’m doing absolutely nothing. The rule was I’m allowed to drink tea or listen to music, but I’m not allowed to do anything “productive,” “useful”, “educational” or “entertaining.” No breathing techniques, just idleness.
The results were very interesting. It was weird and uncomfortable at first, as you could expect. My brain was constantly looking for a way to distract itself. I think I started reading the bread label at one point. It has quite a bit of sugar, if you didn’t know.
But then, something magical happened. For the first time in a long time, I started having thoughts. Not procedural instructions. Not plans. Not dreams. Thoughts. Words, glued together, forming a dialogue. I could hear it again.
I could feel my brain working, too. In fact, it was working much harder than it’s used to during work hours. Even when I wasn’t thinking anything, the engines were buzzing.
Naval compares this process to clearing out your “mental inbox.”
“When you grow up, all this stuff happening to you in your life. And some of it you’re processing, and some of it you should probably think more about, but you don’t. It’s like your email inbox, piling up. Email after email after email.”
He’s not just talking about unprocessed trauma. He’s talking about unprocessed stuff. Stuff that forms your judgements and fuels your motivations. Stuff from 20, 30 years ago that drives your choices today.
The only way to clear out your inbox, Naval says, is by “doing nothing” and simply letting your mind flow.
He calls it “self-therapy.” Instead of paying a therapist to listen to you, you act as your own therapist. Eventually, you answer all of the “emails,” catch up to reality, and achieve a state of calm and clarity.
Of course, it’s dangerous to link subconscious mechanisms to tangible results. We don’t know how it all works down there. But I am now convinced that humans were designed to spend a significant part of their lives completely alone with their thoughts, unstimulated. Doing the contrary is the equivalent of depriving yourself of an essential nutrient.
Harry Styles won’t save you
We’ve become obsessed with breathing techniques and narrated meditation apps, but perhaps we’re missing the key lesson of two over-stimulated decades: less is more when it comes to your to-do list.
Productivity means you’ll finish an article quicker. Mental clarity means you’ll know what to write, and whether you should write at all.
Productivity means you’ll get home sooner. Mental clarity means you’ll get home happy.
Productivity means you’ll squeeze an extra workout into the week. Mental clarity means you’ll feel relaxed, energetic and radiant by default.
Productivity (usually) means you’ll do 10 hours of mediocre work. Mental clarity means you’ll do 1 hour of extraordinary work.
Productivity might burn you out, so you’ll ask Harry Styles to narrate you a bedtime story to fall asleep. Mental clarity means you’ll fall asleep when it’s time.
Productivity is the “how” of the “how.” It’s a mechanical problem of how to get somewhere faster. Mental clarity is the compass showing you where you’re supposed to be going.
I’m not saying productivity isn’t important. I’m saying it’s not the answer. Not for your happiness, not for your performance. Because, as Naval put it,
“We live in an age of infinite leverage. Your actions can be multiplied a thousand-fold, either by broadcasting a podcast, or by investing capital, or by having people work for you, or writing code. Because of that, the impacts of good decision-making are much higher than they used to be.”
Written by
In quest of understanding how humans work.
