An Ode to Awe

New years resolutions are fun.

To some extent, they're necessary. 

Or at least the thought process of reflection, and taking deliberate steps within our control to choose the life we want.

Cut out the carbs, eat less chocolate, drink less, go to gym more etc etc. We can pretty much all agree to these, even though we know we'll stick to them for approximately 8 days (or if you have a painful and rehab-esque addiction to basque cheesecake and almond croissants like me, maybe 2.75 days).

Over the last 5 years, I've taken Tim Ferriss' approach of doing a 'review of the year'. Reviewing the experiences that brought the most joy, and the things that brought anxiety or frustration. 

The goal is to tweak the next year by proactively planning more things similar to the ones that brought joy, and consciously rejecting the ones that brought anxiety (you know that feeling when someone cancels a plan and you get so excited that you could kiss a small grandma or run around pants-less with excitement. Yeah? Do less of those plans next year).

Every year I find that the experiences that bring me most joy involve quality time with my family and my close friends (usually over incredibly indulgent meals), and moments that give me that feeling of awe; the childlike buzz associated with discovery. 

That's why I think so many of us love travel - it gives the feeling of awe, of novelty, of short term discomfort that quickly transitions to euphoria, and the consequent series of dopamine hits that come with "achieving" mini discoveries of amazing places, views, restaurants, cultural experiences in new environments. 

Learning a new skill that unlocks a series of new experiences can bring that same feeling - like learning to ski can unlock ski holidays in the beautiful snowy mountains of the most picturesque places on the planet. Scuba diving can unlock discovery of a whole new subterranean world - opening up island holidays as an opportunity for both ends of the spectrum of relaxation and exploration.

Surfing. Hiking. Photography. Rock climbing. Languages. Golf. Dance. Cycling. Yoga. 
The list is almost infinite - skills that open worlds of cultural connection and new lenses to experience the world. 

I still can't ski or scuba dive in my 30s (amongst several other of the aforementioned skills that I probably shouldn't admit to)... But damn, I can't wait to learn. And I'm so excited for the infinite possibilities of adventure that will be opened through these mini worlds.

Anticipation, awe, unlocking a skill that opens new worlds. 

That's what I want to optimise for in 2025. And beyond. 

'Fitting as much life into life as possible'.

Here's to a 2025 of awe and full of life.

The most boring things in the world.

As I was heading to Abu Dhabi airport a few weeks ago, I noticed a bunch of apartment buildings. Many many many apartment buildings. That got me thinking.

Could tall buildings exist if people didn’t have a way to get to the 30th floor? Would they exist if the only way to access floors was stairs? What did people do before elevators? Are elevators key to the existence of apartment buildings, and to tall office buildings?

Don’t get me wrong, talking about elevators on a first date would ensure you never get a second date. Could be top 3 most boring topics in the world.

But they’re key to our world.

Before elevators just 6 generations ago, cities had to grow outward. They have led to enhanced urban density, and catalysed economic growth by improving economic viability of high-rises, and fitting more tenants and businesses per square foot - transforming real estate.

So, at risk of scaring everyone away that this is going to be a 100 000 word post on elevators, I just want to draw a few quick learnings for us.

There’s beauty in the mundane. And it’s the mundane things that have catalyzed modern society.

That got me thinking. What other absurdly boring things (the topics that would get you exiled from a dinner party for mentioning) are actually key to our society?

Then I thought of toothpaste.

Just 5 generations ago, people cleaned their teeth with clay or twigs or cloth, or not at all. Dental hygiene was a frequent cause of death. That's pretty crazy isn't it? Now if you don't brush twice a day and floss you're considered a madman.. 100 years ago, the idea of toothpaste was absurd. Our grandparents may not have brushed their teeth. Madness.

Barcodes.

Just 3 generations ago, every item had to be manually priced and inventory was tracked by hand. Checkout was slow, error-prone, and inventory management was a nightmare. Today there are over 6 billion barcode scans daily. Global commerce efficiency has been transformed forever.

Have you ever had a sexy bar code discussion? I thought not. 

Even something like zippers that we use on our bags and luggage. Only been around for 5 generations, but imagine international travel without securely locking luggage? Not really possible.

All of these things are so intertwined with everyday life and painfully mundane, but have only been around for a few generations and we take them for granted.

What is the next generation version of elevators that will catalyze residential and commercial growth?

What is the next generation version of toothpaste that will transform hygiene, and even personal health?

What is the next generation version of barcodes that will accelerate retail growth?

What is the next generation version of zippers that will transform how we transport objects from one place to another?

It’s just a reminder that there is still opportunity in everything.

That’s what excites me about the world of angel investing. There are so many incredibly intelligent people out there working on daily problems building their version of elevators, toothpastes, bar codes, zippers - that in 2050 will be seen as disgustingly boring because they’re so intertwined with everyday life.

But they will be multi-billion dollar industries.

Solving a problem for the world doesn’t necessarily have to be something that sounds extraordinary in the moment in order to change the world forever.