The Ferriss Effect

intentions, however slight

I’ve been feeling a little off lately. It’s certainly not anything major. Rather an air of meh pervades my mind these days. It’s not depression (I think). It’s not existential dread (I think). I’m not angry or weepy or unhappy. There’s nothing decidedly bad in my life. There’s no source of consternation. The flip side to this is that there’s nothing decidedly joyous in my life (aside from my dog). There’s no fire in my belly right now. There’s little drive. I feel ‘contentedly lackluster’ if that’s even a thing. Perhaps the best word is bored?

Basically, everything is fine.

Just fine.

Only fine.

I’m not saying Tim Ferriss prompted this current state of meh but he certainly didn’t help the situation. For those who don’t know Ferriss, he’s a famous podcaster, entrepreneur, businessman, author, public speaker, lifestyle guru, investor person who’s made a ton of money telling people how to optimize their lives. You may know him as the author of The 4-Hour Workweek. He’s a “seeker” with a cool demeanor. And on principle alone I’ve been anti-Ferriss.

It’s entirely unfair given that I’ve never read or heard his work, but I’ve always seen him as a frat bro who’s somehow “figured out life” and makes money by selling his snake oil to the masses. Again, it’s a completely ill-informed perception based on zero actual information. I’m sure he’s a perfectly acceptable human being. So when he popped up as an interviewee on a podcast I regularly listen to, I decided to give him a try. If nothing else I wanted a deeper understanding of my anti-Ferriss stance.

The interview was wide-ranging and covered a lot of ground. It was mostly about Ferriss’s work which ultimately led to an investigation of his life. And what a life it’s been. After graduating from Princeton he landed in Argentina and became a competitive ballroom dancer (as one does). Eventually he’d go on to write The 4-Hour Workweek which made him a #1 best-selling author and put him on the world stage. For the last decade he’s run one of the most successful podcasts talking to researchers and experts all with the bent of optimization. Somewhere in there he gave a wildly popular TED Talk and built an extensive public speaking career. Meanwhile he continued writing best-selling books. Nowadays he spends his resources and time investing in research and start-ups. Oh and he’s attractive.

And he triggers the fuck out of me. I wish he didn’t but he does. I feel like a teeny tiny human for admitting that. By the end of the interview though, I realized that this man is a good human. Perhaps a little too aloof for my liking but, nevertheless, he’s doing good work out in the world. He’s created a wildly interesting and varied existence for himself. He’s building things that help people live better. Along the way he’s become extremely successful. He’s had innumerable interesting conversations and collected rich experiences. He’s lived an enviable life and is only 45 years old.

And for whatever reason, his existence makes me mad. He brings out stuff in me I don’t quite like - jealousy, shame, and pity to name a few. Hearing about his amazing life also brought me to a revelation.

There are two Patricks who are incessantly duking it out for my attention. There’s Hungry Patrick. He’s got a fire in his belly for the world. The whole world. He wants all of it. He’s a wanderer who desires to see everything, taste everything, and experience everything. He doesn’t give a fuck as long as there’s adventure along the way. His whims dictate his actions. He finds a way to grab as much as he can. He’s constantly seeking to satisfy his hunger.

Then there’s Soft Patrick. Above all else he seeks comfort. He likes cuddling, watching TV, and stability. He wants simple surroundings and quiet. He’s content with daydreams and star gazing. His uniform is pajamas and a glass of wine. All he wants to do is cook and read and find the path of least resistance. He’s gentle and slow but a rock of stability. He’s an indoor cat who can cook. There’s no need to satisfy his hunger because he never gets hungry.

This battle, the battle between two Patricks, has led me to the life I’m currently living. Or at least my current state of meh. I don’t let either Patrick fully steer the ship. And for good reason. But that begs the question - who IS steering the ship?

I seem to drift from one circumstance to the next. I float between meaningless jobs. I flow from one roommate to the next. I eat whatever is in the house with no foresight. My attention has been gobbled up from my phone. I swipe my debit card with zero thought. My hours, days, and weeks are largely unstructured. It feels very…amorphous.

With zero Patricks taking the lead, I’ve settled into a life that feels like it exists in constant limbo. A conglomeration of non-choices I’ve made. It’s haphazard. There’s a lack of direction and intention. That’s the word! Intention. Without setting enough intention, I seem to have landed in a life that just happened. An accidental life. I look around and see a thing not by my design.

There’s a part of me that knows this is a bit melodramatic and hyperbolic. Certainly an entire life can’t be lumped under such an umbrella. In the back of my mind I know that I’m in a temporary season that is tainting my outlook on life. This too shall pass. I can also admit that this type of quandary is the mark of some serious privilege. Not too long ago, just a few generations back, people were mostly concerned with their bodily survival. The intentional life takes a backseat when the harvest is short and winter is coming. A healthy dose of perspective might also balance me out.

And perhaps this is all normal. Perhaps everyone feels this way at one time or at most times. Maybe this season was the natural denouement to spending two years entirely devoted to producing a single episode of television (which I did). Maybe the potential actors’ strike has me assessing my career and life in their totality. And maybe I’m just riding the rhythmic ebb and flow of being a human.

Meanwhile if lacking intentionality is the heart of my problem, the reason my life feels amorphous right now, then logic would dictate it’s time to set some intentions. Starting small seems manageable. A single daily intention feels like something I can do. A right step, however slight.

Which, ironically enough, sounds like something Tim Ferriss would suggest.