“You always own the option of having no opinion.”
— Marcus Aurelius

Why this hits home

We’re pushed to react to everything—news, gossip, group chats, timelines. Marcus Aurelius cuts through the noise: you don’t owe the world a reaction. Choosing no opinion (yet) protects your attention and keeps your emotions from being yanked around by things that don’t matter or aren’t in your control.

What it really means

• Restraint > reflex. A pause gives reason a chance to show up.
• Discernment, not apathy. You’re choosing where your mind spends its time.
• Better calls, fewer regrets. Decisions made after silence age better than hot takes.

A quick, tactical guide

1. Pause before you react. Don’t reply right away; give it a beat.
2. Ask: “Does this require my input?” If not, let it go.
3. Use a neutral line. “I don’t have an opinion on that right now,” or “I’d need more info.”
4. Focus on what you control. Your work, your people, your actions. Let the rest drift by.
5. Keep a mental “quiet zone.” You don’t need to chase every headline or argument.

Back from Yelapa to a gray Monday—and a practical plan to make work travel with you.

Tell it like it is: growth isn’t a hashtag; it’s repetition with attention.
Keep the mind curious, the body capable, and the tools slow enough to think.

The Idea (short version)

Skip the motivational veneer. Real growth means compounding: staying with a subject long enough to see patterns, keeping your body useful for decades, and using analog tools to slow perception so thoughts can actually land.

This whole system runs on a weekly cycle with small daily touchpoints so you don’t burn out or drift.

Why Bother with the Linux Command Line in a GUI-Heavy World?

Sure, modern Linux distributions come with beautiful, polished graphical interfaces. You can click your way through almost anything these days. But if you stop there, you’re leaving a massive amount of power on the table. The command line interface (CLI) is where Linux really flexes its muscles — and if you learn it, you’ll move faster, automate repetitive work, and gain total control over your system.

For decades, the United States played nice in the global economy. We opened our markets, kept tariffs low, and welcomed cheap goods from all over the world. And what did we get in return?

• Empty factories
• Gutted small towns
• Lost jobs
• And foreign governments crying foul when we finally decided to push back

It’s hypocrisy, plain and simple.

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The Great American Trade-Off

We sold out American industry for low prices. Free trade sounded good on paper—cheap TVs, affordable tools, and more “stuff” for everyone. But behind that Walmart smiley face was a darker truth: our middle class was getting hollowed out.

We chartered a small fishing boat called the Yanet for a four-hour ride out of Yelapa—just the four of us: Ellen, Emma, Maya, and me, along with a two-man local crew who knew these waters like the back of their hands. It was one of those classic “let’s make a memory” decisions that comes with vacation territory—what I’d jokingly call forced family fun. And like most of those, it turned out to be something special.

Yesterday was my birthday — and this year, I spent it in Yelapa, Mexico: a beach town so remote you have to catch a water taxi just to find it on a map. No roads. No cars. Just jungle, cobblestone footpaths, and the promise of doing absolutely nothing — perfectly.

To mark the occasion, we set off on what was supposed to be a simple hike to the famous Yelapa waterfall. According to local legend (and several half-confident directions we got from a guy selling tamales), it was just a casual stroll through town and into the hills.

Impressionist-style view from Casa Flourish, Yelapa, Mexico – August 2, 2025

There’s something about waking before the world stirs that feels a little like stealing time. This morning, on the southern curve of Yelapa’s bay, I found myself wrapped in that kind of stillness—the kind you can’t manufacture, only discover.

Casa Flourish sits quietly above the water, nestled into the hillside like it’s been waiting for centuries to host mornings just like this. The sky was still dark when I slipped out of bed, long before anyone else in the house stirred. I made my way to the palapa roof, coffee in hand, and took in the moment. There were no distractions—just the rhythm of the water, the gentle clink of moored fishing boats, and the occasional distant crow of a rooster reminding the jungle it was almost time to wake up.

If you’re thinking about starting a Zettelkasten on paper, the first question that usually comes up is: “What tools do I need?”

Good news: you don’t need much. That’s one of the biggest advantages of the Slipbox Method. It’s low-tech, low-maintenance, and high-impact. You don’t need a Notion dashboard, a $500 scanner, or a second monitor. You just need the right physical tools and a system you trust.

Below, I’ll walk you through exactly what I use to run my analog-first slipbox—and why I chose each tool.

What Is the Slipbox Method?

If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by information—books you’ve read, podcasts you’ve listened to, or ideas that hit you while walking the dog—you’re not alone. The issue isn’t that you’re forgetful; it’s that the human brain excels at processing, not storing, information.

Enter the Slipbox Method: a durable, low-tech system for capturing ideas on paper, interlinking them, and letting them mature into publishable insights.

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The Core Idea