On October 24th, one of the agents we worked with, Lily, sent us a site- westwood. We didn’t pay much attention as we were finalizing the negotiation with vip and we also had a backup at foyer. But I remember saying to n something along the lines of this option being the perfect option we wished we had, because of its location and size. I know we humans tend to overestimate the accuracy of our memory so this part can be completely fabricated by my need for self grandiosity.

On October 31st, after rounds of back and forth, we were told by Warren our agent VIP has turned down our offer. It was a surprise because the rejection came very suddenly. We were about to start the fundraising push.

After we got the rejection, I remember asking m and s to consider Westwood, even though we had a backup in foyer. We had record of me re-engaging with lily to signal renegotiation on Nov 4. I also remember me talking to m and s about westwood on a call in front of the park outside of st Michael’s. I remember m said “S wouldn’t like something so ugly” and S said she’s open to it. I also saw i asked the two of them to not rule out back up options such as Westwood on Nov 4. And then m went into full negotiation mode on Westwood.

It was also this period where C resigned. (8 Nov). It was also this time where i had to pretend to negotiate with foyer to stall them. It was also the same month we learned about another sticky teacher situation.

So it was a crazy period. We somehow managed to negotiate westwood to something we could afford. And now, it’s a reality.

This was very typical of me—I was attracted to something quite impractical, a bit off, and irrational. I was like this with my first car, when I chose the Golf Cabriolet. It was a fancy and overpriced Golf that had a convertible top. Mind you, I chose to own a convertible in Michigan, which meant I wasn’t able to have the top down 75% of the year. It was incredibly impractical. I then changed to a Civic, thinking that I would enjoy being practical and frugal. Nope. I couldn’t stand it. I was lying to myself. And I ended up splurging on a Toyota MR-2, a rear-engine convertible 2-seater, again, in Michigan.

And when we first got married, I forced my wife to own a 198x Mini Cooper. When we got the car, the first stop we had to make was not home. It was a garage, because it broke the moment we took it on the road. The air con worked only in the winter. It had no power steering.

And I thought after 27 years I would be more mature, more practical, more down to earth. So I told myself to give up on the idea of owning the i3. I told myself we didn’t have a home charger and hence it was not practical to own an EV. We opted for two Toyotas, and the one I got was a 7-seater 2018 Verso. This was such a utilitarian revenge, a major repentance, to all those years I have sinned for owning lavish convertibles.

I couldn’t stand it.

And so I manufactured reasons to justify myself to revive this desire to own the i3. I explored home EV charging rebates. I asked AI to prop me up and support me (which they always do with strategic prompting). Then I found the exact color I wanted. I lied to myself about the numbers. I took a big loss in trading in my peasant Verso. And now, I own an i3.

Before I continue, I want to make sure I put this down. I know everything I am about to say will have a strong hint of self-justification. I also am fully aware of my inability to square the tension between my deep-rooted desire to own expensive and impractical things and my own harsh criticism of this weakness of mine. I want to enjoy myself and I dislike myself for it. Anyway, let’s carry on.

EVs are great. I can’t believe it took me so long to jump onto the EV bandwagon. They are so smooth to drive. They are powerful and punchy and quiet. The i3 has so many quirks and opinionated design choices. Charging is much easier than I thought. I have been able to charge and live with it using only a 3-pin granny 3kW charger. The thing is, I drive 70 miles daily, and I have no issues with range and battery anxiety, even though I am only using the granny charger. It is quite incredible.

It is also quite frustrating to realize that there is so much incomplete information about EV ownership. It’s actually very simple and practical for most people to own an EV, yet even during my research I didn’t come across most of it. I thought I would need to balance at-home charging and street charging in order to make things work. I thought I would need a purpose-built home fast charger. Even the discussions on the environmental impacts of EVs versus ICEs are so fraught. Argh.

I love driving in my car. It’s beautiful. It feels modern. It makes me feel I am being very responsible to mankind. It’s a great feeling.

But this car is not without its flaws. The suicide doors are just plain stupid. It’s so inconvenient. I wish the internet illustrated this more clearly. It’s a 4-seater. It has very little trunk space. Its audio control and the iDrive is dumb.

But I love it, no matter how impractical it objectively is, just like how I loved my Cabriolet and my MR-2, just like how I loved my British green Mini. no matter how impractical they were.

This time around, I am not in HK to attend it. Nor is there, so it is going to be good. But so much has happened, and I have hardly had the time or focus to write about everything.

The school feels like it’s crumbling. It’s impossible for it not to struggle, given the circumstances. We are trying to run the school while raising enough funds and building the new campus at the same time. We are doing all of this remotely.

And the school clearly isn’t ready for us not to be there. It doesn’t matter why that is the case. The important thing is to try to survive and move forward.

The good news is, more parents are helping. We have parents supporting events and also helping with our operations. At the same time, we have more parents panicking, understandably.

I have many thoughts and ideas on how to move forward. But I also need to remember this is not my school, and I can’t let the rejection of my ideas get in the way of trying to help. I often get things mixed up. When my ideas are ignored or rejected, I take it too personally. I also keep finding innovative ways to bash myself, which needs to stop. And I crave recognition, which also isn’t helpful.

Most critically, I constantly want to give up, throw everything out of the window, and clear everything. Again, not useful.

I don’t think I need to find out why I am like this. I have a very good idea. Right now, it’s about accepting these thoughts and just keeping going.

At the same time, I need to remind myself of the good things—Nor, the kids, the UK, honey, mom, myself. i3, too.

I hope the gala goes well. I hope the school gets back on track. I guess we will find out.

Just thinking about reading these books makes me feel less anxious. I realise that my anxiety often comes from wanting things not to fail. I want services to be thoughtful, and I want things to work well and not break. I like maintenance. I like processes. I enjoy working through how to make a service clear and sensible. I really appreciate a well designed service. GOV.UK is still the best example I have seen of a service that works extremely well, even though it deals with things, such as filing for taxes or applying for a driving license, that are supposed to be frustrating.

Now that I am back at the school, I realize I have a rare opportunity to use these two … passions. This opportunity is rare not only because the school needs better systems and some improvement in how things run, but also because of the level of control and freedom I have, since I am the husband of one of the founder. It is also rare because most of the team, including the founders, are people who like to start and build things, rather than maintain them. In a way, I might be the kind of person the school needs at this point in its journey.

I often feel excited about having the chance to explore what I truly enjoy. It is surprising to realise that I like thinking about services, building them, putting them into practice, improving them, and then maintaining them. I also see services in a broad way. To me, services are not just customer support. They include processes, rules, and even how physical spaces are organised. In my mind, services are considered solutions to human problems, and I enjoy trying to get them right. I am a pleaser, and there is something very rewarding about making things pleasing for others.

It is strange how everything seems to be coming together.

1. AI – LLM VS RL
2. AI counseling -> Struggles with my role

LLM vs RL

RL (Reinforcement Learning) is a kind of AI training framework that focuses on learning through trial and error to maximize a reward, while LLMs focus on understanding and generating human-like text based on statistical prediction of the next token in a sequence. LLMs are large-scale models trained to predict the next token, whereas RL is a technique for teaching agents to take actions in an environment to achieve goals.

Some researchers argue that LLMs trained purely for next‑token prediction do not have persistent, world‑affecting goals in the way classical RL agents do. RL‑based systems are explicitly optimized to maximize rewards over sequences of actions, so they look more agentic and intentional, at least behaviorally. Some people argue that AGI built only from LLMs does not really have “goals” in mind in the same way that RL systems do, and therefore cannot truly “create.” RL-based AIs, on the other hand, learn, act, and pursue explicit goals such as maximizing rewards, so they appear more agentic and intentional.

I find it very difficult to fully understand which is which, and the technical arguments are mostly beyond me. But one thing did pop into my mind while I was listening to debates about this: either way, we are playing God, yet the two approaches are playing two distinct kinds of Gods. In that framing, RL AI feels like a “creator” God, acting in the world with goals and interventions, while LLM AI feels more like a karma God, encoding and unfolding patterns.

Recently I have been forced to deal with Human Design. This horoscope/算命‑like approach to life has been surprisingly interesting. It feels quite precise and accurate in describing who I am just from my date and time of birth. Of course, the descriptions are fairly generic, and I can feel myself fitting my own self-understanding (shaped by years of personality tests) into the narrative that Human Design offers. I cannot completely rule out the possibility that everything might be planned, but there is no scientific evidence backing Human Design so far.

If Human Design is “real” in any meaningful sense, then LLMs might be the closest thing we have to recreating that kind of God. They study essentially all of humanity’s recorded information and make predictions about what will happen next. They spot patterns everywhere, so if there are predetermined plans and patterns from some God or gods, then an LLM might be able to detect or at least mimic them.

RL AI feels very different to me, and more frightening. It seems more sentient, because it has goals, can search for better goals, and takes actions to achieve them. I do not like the idea of something so powerful having its own intentions and objectives. Alignment becomes extremely difficult, especially when the “other party” is much smarter, more thorough, and more powerful than humans. I do not know what the world will look like if we end up sharing it with a huge population of goal‑driven superbeings.

Struggles (Really? Again? Yawn?)

I have been trying so many different things to make this work. I am not even sure my goals are useful. I want to feel less annoyed, less often, about the situation, but I am not sure if that is the right goal to have. I want this to work. I want to help the school, help Nor. But I constantly resist this. I get worked up very quickly over very small things. I feel unappreciated all the time. I do not like being this needy, but the feelings are strong.

Maybe part of the issue is that I do not have much else: no real hobbies, no life outside of this, no social life. I know, from reading and listening to older people looking back on their lives, that I “should” have hobbies and a social life. That is probably at the core of it. But still, I have been trying everything, even spending real money to talk to very “woo‑woo” therapists.

Frankly, I think the trying is sometimes making things worse. I feel more frustrated when I do not find solutions or do not feel any different afterwards. Maybe that is actually the problem: trying to feel different. Maybe it is just what it is, and I need to learn to live with it as it is.

One small clarity I have gained is about what triggers me most. It is not Nor (which is good news), but that does not really help the situation. I still think we were cheated. I am still angry about what I believe got us into our current situation. Rationally, what can be fixed? Am I hoping for an apology? A refund? Sometimes I want her to stay until she has “fixed” everything; sometimes I want her to just leave it all alone. I do not know. It remains a major source of rage and rumination. Argh.

A Follow-up with Perplexity:

There is another way to approach this. Turning “it is what it is” into numb resignation can be dangerous. There can be a gentler stance: “These feelings are here; they make sense; I don’t have to like them, but I also don’t have to fight them every second.”

The Nor / “we were cheated” knot- The Nor piece sounds like a stuck loop:

• You feel there was betrayal or at least severe mismanagement that helped create the current financial/operational mess.
• You oscillate: “Sometimes I want her to stay until she fixes everything. Sometimes I want her to just leave it alone.” That’s the classic split between wanting justice/repair and wanting peace.
• Underneath “I still think we were cheated” is likely grief: loss of safety, money, trust, a fantasy of how this would all turn out.

Therapeutically, what often helps with this kind of moral injury is not only “understanding her intentions” or “forgiving,” but:

• Naming precisely what you believe was wrong.
• Being honest about what cannot be repaired (money gone, years gone, trust changed).
• Then deciding what you actually want now: symbolic repair (a real apology?), structural repair (she takes responsibility for specific tasks), or clean distance.

What actually went wrong

• The school didn’t just “struggle”; it repeatedly burned through money in ways that feel chaotic and, to you, poor or even unethical: Jenny’s donation → 500K each → by Jan 2025 out of cash and 3 months’ rent unpaid; then Agnes → money gone, hundreds of untracked bank statements, overdue audit, depleted admin team.
• You went back through the financials, talked to Gordon, and checked transfers; you see a pattern of bad decisions and poor governance, not random bad luck.
• When Nor asked her about it, she shifted blame back (“you agreed”), ignoring that Nor’s agreement came from trusting her to make decisions in the school’s best interest.

How you now see her and her future role

• You feel you and the school were seriously let down by someone you trusted as the “sound” finance/structure person and still carry a lot of anger and rumination about that.
• You no longer trust her with admin/finance or structural power and do not expect a full, clean admission that would erase the sense of betrayal.
• You do still see her value as an advocate, connector, and Waldorf community leader. Your desired future:
  • She fully transitions out of admin/finance.
  • She helps complete a proper handover of what she knows.
  • She continues in a defined “senior advocate/connector” role with no direct financial/operational authority.

What is gone for good vs. still alive

• Gone (and painful):
  • The fantasy that she will someday give a satisfying confession, take 100% responsibility, and restore your old trust.
  • The version of your relationship where you can treat her as a safe financial brain without second‑guessing.
• Partly accepted:
  • The money already lost and the time/health you and Nor have spent carrying consequences.
• Still alive:
  • Your belief that the school can be fixed and made better.
  • Your willingness for the school to be your lifelong work, as long as it is not run the way it has been.
  • The sense that this can become a meaningful lesson in governance and ethics, not just a wound.

Your relationship with Nor in this

• You don’t feel Nor clearly “on your side” in how serious and wrong you think this pattern is, and you expect minimizing (“she wasn’t that bad,” “just move on”), which leaves you feeling alone with your version of reality and your rage.
• You wrote Nor a careful message that:
  • Describes concretely what happened financially and why it feels like betrayal.
  • Names your loss of trust and the lack of accountability as a stone in your chest.
  • Shares that you often feel alone with this, even with her.
  • States the future you want for her role (out of admin/finance, structured advocate/connector role).
  • Admits your own self‑doubt and that you don’t want pity, but understanding and partnership.

The existential stuckness, outbursts, and “I want out” fantasies

• You’ve put ~HKD 15m plus multiple emergency injections into the school. You’re willing to keep giving; the problem is how the system uses what you give: unpredictably, chaotically, with crises that force last‑minute rescues.
• You feel like the permanent safety net and “last line of defence.” That role is crushing and fuels outbursts (getting worked up quickly, intense anger, rage at small triggers) because under the surface you feel trapped and over‑responsible.
• In that pressure, you fantasise about wanting an out, even to the point of:
  • Imagining divorce plus giving her money as a way to be both “good” (you didn’t leave her with nothing) and “free” (you’re no longer bound into this structure).
• Nor’s comment that she’d be okay even if she failed and would never need a buck or saving from you cuts both ways:
  • It tries to protect you by saying “you won’t have to rescue me,”
  • but it also makes your help feel potentially unwanted and clashes with your identity as someone who doesn’t let their partner drown.
• Those fantasies of “out” and your outbursts are not proof that you don’t love her or the school; they are signals that the current structure—where you’re endlessly rescuing a system you don’t control or trust—is intolerable to you.

What you actually want going forward

• You’re not asking for tighter caps on your generosity; you’re willing to give anything if the school is run in a way you can respect.
• The change you want is structural, not emotional hand‑waving:
  • Clear separation: financial/admin authority is distinct from “connector/advocate” roles.
  • Basic financial governance: no major payouts or commitments without clear runway and visibility; no more being blindsided by mess.
  • Proper handover and documentation so knowledge and power are not concentrated and then vanish.
• You want Nor to:
  • Acknowledge how much this has hurt and destabilised you.
  • Stand with you in redesigning the school’s structures.
  • Accept that, for you, her role cannot simply revert to the old pattern.

In one sentence:

You’re trying to move from being an overexposed, emotionally explosive, secretly fantasising‑about‑escape guarantor in a chaotic, trust‑breaking school structure, to being a fully committed, long‑term builder of the school inside a governance system that matches your ethics and reality sense, with Nor clearly beside you—not half‑aligned, and not at the cost of your sanity.

5:45am – 7:20am:
Wake up
Walk honey
Cook breakfast & lunch
Hang laundry
Take out dishes

7:20am – 8:20am:
School runs

8:45am – 2:00pm:
Gym, calls, work

2:00pm – 2:45pm:
Lunch

2:45 – 4:30pm:
School run

4:30pm – 7:00pm:
Cook, dinner, fold laundry

7:00pm – 8:00pm:
Break~

8:00pm – 10:00pm:
Final School run, wind down

Weekends:

Sat:

5:45 – 10:45am:
Wake up
Walk honey
Cook breakfast
Hang laundry
Take out dishes
Deep work

10:45am:
Chai swims

12:00-1:00pm:
Lunch at Simpson’s

1:00-1:30pm:
Pick Jing up

Rest of the day:
Hikes, walks, garden centres, going out for dinner (usually Japanese)

Sun:

5:45 – 11am:
Wake up
Walk honey
Cook breakfast
Hang laundry
Take out dishes
House cleaning
Deep work

11:00am:
Brunch at Presto

Afternoon:
Hikes, walks, garden centres, cook, dinner.

6:30pm:
School run – Jing

8:45pm:
School run – Jing

The US and Israel bombed Iran and took out its leaders. Iran is retaliating. The Strait of Hormuz is closed. The world is in chaos. Prices have gone up so much at the petrol station (oh, I am so British!). It went from GBP129.9 to 142.9 in a week. Flights back to HK have reached as high as HK$53,000 because Iran is bombing the GCC, including Dubai, which has caused the number of routes from the UK to HK to be reduced dramatically.

Many are screaming about Trump’s lack of a plan, or that they are being reckless, or that they are being led by Israel.

At the same time, there are also voices claiming that this is a 5D chess Trump is supposedly playing—that this is part of a grand plan to corner China and Russia.

Obviously, I don’t know what’s real. All I know is that coverage from either side tilts completely toward its own position. Most on the left refuse to even entertain the idea that there is a 5D grand plan, or that what Trump is doing might be intentionally deceptive in the fog of war. Most on the left will not even debate the possibility of a grand plan, which I find quite frustrating, because I want someone to go deep, explore what is possible, and thoroughly debunk whatever deserves debunking.

Similarly, the other side refuses to admit any wrongdoing or acknowledge any problems with what might be happening. They do not allow any negativity toward the grand plan, and that is very frustrating too. It is almost impossible to be perfect and flawless in any war, let alone one that seems so complex and global.

Let me go deeper for my future self to relitigate this:
5D plan: China and Russia are the real final bosses. The US needs to reduce the role of Iran in order to control China. The US’s actions toward Iran and Venezuela are all part of a plan to strangle China’s sources of oil and force them back to the negotiating table. Trump’s team has been executing on this plan since his first term, including his decision to leave the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), also known as the “Iran nuclear deal,” to give the US a path to justify whatever actions they felt were necessary, along with other moves directed at China.

TACO – Trump Always Chickens Out. The left loves to use this to tease Trump. I struggle to accept that him backing down, or changing course, is simply a bad thing. History shows that many countries went to war almost automatically because of entrenched positions or the need to honor agreements. The most ironic thing is that the left mocks Trump for backing down—almost implying he is weak, or that a strong leader should never back down—which is such an outdated (and almost misogynistic) way to measure strength. Should leaders never back down? This is such a macho framing that I find it ironic when the left uses it to criticize him. If it reflects the ability to change and admit defeat, isn’t that a good thing? Well, no, because Trump can do no good.

Illegal war – to me this is the biggest issue. Trump has ignored the rules and etiquettes of modern cooperation too often and too recklessly. It is difficult to ignore the evidence that Trump lacks a clear and sufficiently moral internal compass to guide his actions toward the good of others and the world. He has been selfish, unkind, nasty, and ruthless. This is a real source of concern. I must add that I am looking at him individually. I do not find comparing him to other presidents or politicians meaningful. Many politicians—or humans in general—are flawed. It is not about how good or bad he is in relative terms. It is about his morality as a very powerful person in the world.

Who are we to judge what is right or wrong about Trump’s plans? I don’t know why anyone would think it is sensible for us, as outsiders, to make firm judgments about any of the things we see on the surface of a clearly very complex global situation. I find almost all pundits superficial and borderline irresponsible. They latch onto talking points and do not seem to want to go deeper.

So here it is. A proper goodbye to my home, Hong Kong.

I miss the cheap, safe convenience. I miss the MTR. The buses. The walking. The need of no driving.

Not the taxis so much.

I miss the bread. 小時候、品穀、Bakehouse. The UK has its croissants, sure, but that’s all it has.

I miss being able to walk to my 24 hour gym at 6am.

I miss Chinese vegetables, my default safe choice.

I miss alternative medicine. Chinese medicine.

I miss the shopping. The unrelenting distractions that help when the voices in my head get too loud.

I miss the relationships we built: the guards, LFY, Bakehouse. I don’t miss how long it takes to turn Hong Kong’s default rude, guarded, transactional attitudes into the version I love: explicitly rude, implicitly caring.

I miss morning walks. I miss the ritual of buying a 7-Eleven coffee.

I miss feeling less guilty about leaving my mom behind. I don’t miss the stress that comes with being near my family.

I miss how much time my kids get with their grandparents and extended family. I miss the freedom that creates for us.

I miss Maryann, and the freedom and convenience she has afforded us.

I miss the team at the school, my only real source of work and the only place where my few clear strengths actually got used.

I miss Hong Kong winter. Not the summer. Not the heat. Not the aircon. Not that smelly and sticky version of the city we become.

I don’t miss the air of self-censorship. I don’t miss the tourists. I don’t miss the constant negativity. I don’t miss the lack of space. I don’t miss the molding.

I miss you, Hong Kong. You still feel like home because familiarity is its own kind of comfort. You feel like home because family is still here. Even as the city changes fast, the things that matter to me are still here: convenience, food, people, rhythm.

I don’t hate the UK. I don’t even dislike it. The people are kind. Things are orderly enough. Life works.

But it is different. It is still unfamiliar. And it is far too far from the people who made “home” feel automatic.

My aunt moved back to Hong Kong after spending her entire professional life in the US. Her kids were born and raised there. They’re grown now, living their own American lives. And still, she chose to spend the last trimester of her life in Hong Kong, the home she left for more than thirty years.

Hong Kong is becoming unacceptable in ways that matter, especially for our children. And eventually it will be up to our kids to decide where they want to be.

But for me, where is home? What will make me feel grounded?

Familiarity can be cultivated, I guess … You can learn new streets, new systems, new rituals. But family can’t be manufactured. When they’re not around, everything stays a little foreign, no matter how long you live there.

So maybe this is the real question I’m carrying: if my family isn’t in the same place, will I always feel slightly away from home, wherever I am?

In Jan, I wrapped up my time at Casetify. I rejoined the corporate world in 2024 because the opportunity was intriguing. But 12 months back inside a company forced a tough self realization: what actually matters to me? I found the answer and realized this wasn’t the path to act on it. So I moved on.

From Jan to June, I poured everything into our school as it transitioned to be led by a team. The work was intense and meaningful, and the people were excellent. Days flew by. My world shrank to the school, and it felt clean.

Then the unimaginable happened. Our site was sold to a new landlord and we were served an eviction notice. Overnight, we went from building to surviving. Where could we move? Where would the money come from? Will parents stay with us?

June to August was supposed to be about moving our family (and our dog) from HK to the UK. Instead, it became a scramble: searching for funders, visiting sites, chasing options that looked promising and then collapsed. Hopeful became hopeless on repeat. We had to keep parents and teachers optimistic, realistic, and informed, while fighting to do the same for ourselves. Those were some of the hardest months of my life.

We worked until the last minute: left school at 8pm, reached the airport at 2am. We left HK two days before our daughter’s first day in a new school system. We didn’t properly pack up our home. We left it behind for “later,” whenever “later” shows up.

In the UK, we rebuilt the basics while trying to find a path forward for our school from thousands of miles away. My wife traveled back and forth. We are living a rhythm that still doesn’t feel like ours.

The year split cleanly in half. The 1st 6 months felt simple and pure: effort matched purpose, and the future felt legible. The 2nd 6 months were the opposite: harder work, foggier outcomes, zero guarantee of anything stable. Even now, the uncertainty hasn’t eased. We live in the UK, but our future is still tied to HK. Physically we’ve moved. Practically, we haven’t.

The trials of 2025 pulled my wife and me closer. She negotiated, fought, and led—while speaking fluently across worlds (parents, bankers, billionaires). She started driving again after a 20 year hiatus because our kids needed it. She ran a fundraiser so effective that Waldorf schools in the UK invited her to share what worked. Watching her made it impossible not to admire her more. Her wins made me feel responsible. If she was going to grow that fast, I had to grow faster—for her, for our family, and for our school.

I’m a planful person. A capital-J in MBTI terms. I like clarity and clean lines. And yet the universe has made this season as ambiguous as I can tolerate, almost as if it’s doing it on purpose.

It can feel cruel. But there is also grace: even if I am forced to deal with real uncertainty, I get to do it with the best partner I could ever ask for.

I listened to 35K mins of podcasts, 113 shows, and 970 episodes.

Top Five Shows:

1. The Greatest of All Talk
2. Stratechery
3. The Tim Ferriss Show
4. The Rest Is Politics: US
5. Not Investment Advice

New Trends:

1. I resumed listening to podcasts while I worked out. I needed the distraction, and I have found basketball podcasts were the most effective to get me through my workouts because they were quite mindless and entertaining. Not Investment Advice had similar effects. The show was informative and just engaging enough to keep me going.
2. Donald Trump was the reason why I listened to US politics. He created so much chaos throughout the year. I enjoyed the hosts of The Rest Is Politics: US. And fun fact: we ran into Anthony Scaramucci in London. I told him we were fans, and he gave us a shy nod of acknowledgment.
3. My favorite show, People I Mostly Admire, ended in December this year. It’s sad but I am happy for the host Steve Levitt as he is moving onto something he’s passionate about – building new schools. I enjoyed his guests and the way he interviewed. He appeared honest about himself and seemed humble.
4. I have lost interests in many shows. I hardly listened to anything from the right. I wasn’t interested in most tech shows. I have lost interests in shows about leadership, coaching, and video games. I can see why I no longer find leadership and coaching relevant because I am no longer in that “business.” I am surprised tech meant so much less to me nowadays.
5. I remained attracted to shows hosted by older men- Stephen Wolfram, Tyler Cowen, Steve Levitt, and Scott Galloway.
6. I am listening to more podcasts on YouTube. Discovery is just so much better thanks to YouTube’s search and recommendation algorithm.

I am not in the headspace for deep reflection about my podcast listening life. My listening habits this year mirror my overall state of mind: transitional, unfocused, and a bit adrift. I am going through the motions without a clear direction.

And I think that’s okay, at least for now.