Three Ideas for One Mind

A few people asked me questions based on my last memo about letting things go. "What if I need those books again?" or "What if I want to start filming videos?" First of all, we live in an age of ten-minute delivery, so I’m confident I can always buy those things back if needed. But if the concern is about reinvesting money to repurchase the same items—well, money itself is a commodity and is best utilized when circulated. However, I believe these questions stem from a deeper concern that I’d like to address in today’s memo.

Now, onto my second point: this has been an internal conflict for me for a long time. I tend to learn new things, experiment with different projects, and either succeed or fail. Eventually, I drop them—whether due to failure, loss of interest, or boredom (probably why the only thing that has consistently worked for me is investing; venture cap and otherwise as it is about exploring new ideas all the time). I wish at some point I could confidently let go of this internal conflict, just as I’m learning to let go of my possessions. But that evolution may only come with age and wisdom, which I don’t yet possess. So, for now, I’ll have to find other ways to navigate it.

And lastly, there’s the idea of perceiving early retirement before old age as a "waste of talent or skills." Especially coming from the tech world, where people take their work and lives too seriously, and productivity is about making every minute count (in all the wrong ways, by the way), this way of thinking can become a serious concern and a hindrance to truly enjoying life. The constant romanticising of struggle and hustle has to be questioned. Life without trauma is better, and you don’t need trauma to grow—seriously! What trauma did Buddha experience in his palace before setting off on his adventure? Emotional abuse is not the path to growth, so don’t accommodate toxic environments thinking they’ll help you grow. They’ll only burden your body and mind, depriving you of joy and, quite possibly, leading to an early death of your body.

Below are three core ideas that are helping shape my thinking about these three core issues.?

“Tools for liberation (freedom) are not something to cling to”

A man comes to the bank of a river and realises he needs to cross to the other side, but there is no bridge or ferry. So, he builds a raft out of branches and leaves to help him cross the river. Once he has successfully reached the other side, he wonders whether he should carry the raft with him on his further journey or leave it behind.

The Buddha explains that just as the man leaves the raft behind because it has served its purpose, similarly, we must let go of teachings, ideas, or possessions that are no longer useful to us. Clinging to them would be like carrying the raft on land, which is unnecessary and burdensome.

I apply the Parable of the Raft to the books and other material I’m letting go of, including my talents and skills. According to Maslow's hierarchy, talent and skills are essential for establishing stability—securing food, shelter, and safety. However, as you progress up the hierarchy toward actualisation, clinging to the same routines, work, or ideas can hinder your growth. If you hold on, how can you elevate to the next level? Just as nature teaches us, we must shed the old to make way for the new.

I often speak about my fascination with snakes, to the point that I sometimes dream about them. One intriguing aspect that deepens my interest is their molting process. As a snake grows, its old skin becomes too tight and restrictive. Shedding this skin enables the snake to continue growing and evolving into a stronger form. I understand that many people view snakes as creepy or evil, but for the above reasons and as a reminder, I deeply value and appreciate their presence in the universe.

"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man."

This quote reflects Heraclitus' philosophy of flux—the idea that everything is in a state of constant change. The river symbolises the flow of life and time, and by the time a person steps into the river again, both the person and the river have changed. The water has moved on, and the person has undergone internal transformations as well, even if subtle.

This concept resonates with themes in many spiritual and philosophical traditions, including Buddhism which also emphasises the impermanence and constant change of all things.

In this context, if each moment is entirely different, what significance does this moment hold? Who cares about what you do or don't do in life? This is the kind of lightness I want to move forward with in my life.

What, then, is truly permanent, and how can we attain it?

The only thing truly permanent is entirely involuntary and remains unaffected by anything you do—materially, spiritually, or emotionally. The divisions we create as humans lead me to believe that labeling someone as “spiritual” is a misnomer; we are all inherently spiritual by birth, as we each possess a spirit. To call someone “spiritual” implies that the rest of us are zombies. While humans may sometimes act that way, it doesn’t warrant giving special status to so-called spiritual individuals.

A more fitting term is “seeker of truth.” In that light, we are all on this journey when our time comes. The ego of a religious person may lead them to separate themselves from others, falsely distinguishing their path as spiritual. However, I remain patient with those who refer to me as spiritual, smiling in response and moving on to another conversation.

Signing off,

K

Photo Credits: Pawel Janiak / Unsplash