The Architecture of the Rearview

A special birthday edition of Living Uninterrupted

Happy Birthday to the Living Uninterrupted Newsletter! 🎉🥳

The first newsletter I ever published was on Monday, February 17, 2025, so it’s not our actual birthday, but since this newsletter comes out on Sundays, we’re close enough.

I’m currently reading “The Gap and the Gain” by Dr. Benjamin Hardy and Dan Sullivan, and one of the key themes is measuring backwards. Progress can only be viewed when we compare ourselves now with where we started as opposed to our ideal.

Put another way, if we measure our progress against an “ideal,” (i.e. where we think we should be, what we think we should have accomplished, or by what we think should have happened) we set ourselves up for a lifetime of disappointment and unhappiness because the ideal is an ever-moving goal post, a receding horizon. Ben Hardy, an organizational psychologist, combines positive psychology with Dan Sullivan’s teachings from his Strategic Coach enterprise. Together, they suggest an antithetical approach where we measure our progress (or success) not against any “should” statements, but in relation to where we started.

Who are we today compared to who we were yesterday?

It’s easy to get lulled into the trap of tethering our sense of worth or progress to crossing some finish line. Everywhere we turn, the image of overcoming our own personal mountains is glorified and we are taught that success is a feeling we get only once we’ve reached the summit.

“Keep your eye on the prize,” as they say. “Don’t lose sight of the finish line.”

There are two main problems with this outlook.

1) There is always another prize to chase, another star to shoot for, and another goal post to cross. If we focus only on “what’s up ahead,” we become exhausted by the never-ending chase and blinded to what is around us. This is the core of the carrot-on-a-stick image: that we are perpetually chasing something that is unattainable. That is not to imply we aren’t capable of success or achieving things, but the point is that as long as we view the carrot as the prize, we will never get it.

2) The prize is never worth it. I know this sounds counter-intuitive, but it’s true. There is a tendency for humans to revert to a baseline level of happiness regardless of the accomplishment or achievement. As one example, they have done studies on lottery winners that show winning the lottery provides a brief blip of happiness to the person’s life that quickly settles back to their previous level of baseline happiness. If they weren’t happy before winning the lottery, they weren’t happy after winning it. It’s called the hedonic treadmill, and many of us are on it constantly. We strive to achieve something, we get it, we feel good for a brief moment, and then we’re back to wanting something else.

The solution to both of these is not simply setting better goals or not going for them at all. It is in the source.

Looking at a finish line that feels miles in the distance and like it’s getting farther away no matter how fast you run does nothing but remind you of how far away you are. When we are focused solely on the distance between us and the “thing” we want, we are in what Dan Sullivan calls “the gap.”

Living in the gap looks like:

  • Comparing yourself and your progress to others

  • Feeling like you aren’t “doing enough”

  • Statements like “I’ll feel happy when…” or “I’ll feel successful when…” or even, “I’ll rest when…”

These are dangerous roads to travel because everything hinges on the “when” and, as we all know, we never know when the “when” is going to happen, or if it ever will.

To counter this, the authors offer a different model: measuring backwards.

Rather than look at what we don’t have or haven’t accomplished yet, we are better off by measuring where we are today in relationship to our past selves. This measuring stick allows us to live in what they call “the gain.”

Think back to the person you were 10 years ago and ask yourself these questions:

  • What do you know now that you didn’t know then?

  • What have you accomplished in those last 10 years?

  • What have you learned about yourself in that time?

Now do that for the past 3 years.

The last 12 months.

The last 90 days.

I guarantee that if you think back to what you’ve accomplished in the last 90 days alone, you’ll be astonished at all of the gains you’ve made.

In the spirit of living in “the gain,” today is a great opportunity to reflect on the growth of this newsletter, and more broadly my own personal growth, over the last year.

  • I’ve published 53 newsletters

  • I’ve gained 33 readers

  • I’ve created a consistent writing flow that feels good and allows me to put out work I enjoy

  • I’ve learned how to write better, more efficiently, cutting my writing and editing time in half

  • I’ve developed and improved my personal writing style

  • I’ve cultivated my writing palate, discovering which topics I like writing about and which ones I don’t like as much

While this isn’t an all-encompassing list of my progress, the point is, I’ve made strides in many different areas of my life all thanks to this newsletter and writing in general. I am better at articulating my thoughts and ideas and communicating them in meaningful ways, and that has proved to be the most monumental gain over the last year.

Alongside “The Gap and the Gain” I’m also reading “The Creative Act” by Rick Rubin, which I mentioned in last week’s newsletter. A central theme from Rubin is answering the questions: Do I love the work I’ve created?

Everything you do can be considered art. Art is totally subjective and it’s all ultimately meaningless anyways, but when we view ourselves as artists of our lives, creators by nature, it offers a different lens through which to view our creations. Art and creativity don’t have to come in the form of paintings, books, or competition. Building a house is art. Decorating a room is art. Finding a new way to get to work or accomplish a task is art. Cooking is art.

In what ways are you making art in your life?

What are you creating with the tools that are in front of you and the skills that you’ve been given?

And, most importantly, do you love the art you are creating?

I haven’t always loved everything I’ve ever written, including some editions of this newsletter. But as I continue to hone the skills and practices that are relevant to me, I find myself enjoying not only the process of writing but what I write more and more.

I’ve spent the last few days rereading some of my newsletters and boy…how things have changed! This is not to say my earlier newsletters were bad and that these ones are better. They were expressions of who I was at that point in time, and it is beautiful to look back and remember where Coleman was in his journey when he was writing.

Here are some of my favorite quotes from the past year:

  • I want to empower others to live fully and intentionally, to find and seize the opportunities that life offers, and to build a life worth waking up to each and every day.

  • If you could talk to the person you were yesterday, would you say "thank you for making today easier,” or would you ask them, "Why did you leave this for me to deal with today?"

  • The world is out there, waiting to be seen. And someone’s gotta do it. So why not you?

  • To live fully, to taste the richness of existence, we must embrace the unknown.

  • We all deserve a little grace and patience on our journeys to becoming the version of ourselves we aspire to be, and while it is simple to offer such a sentiment to others, it isn’t always easy to award it to ourselves when we need it most.

  • But when decisions are made in numbed ambivalence, our future self pays the price.

  • Start saying, "This is exactly where I want to be," and “This is the best _______ ever!”

  • What good is a good photo if you never took a snapshot in your mind? Why do we spend more time capturing the moment than being captivated by it?

  • Creativity is a conversation between you and the Universe, an open telephone line that you can access anytime you wish. The greatest creatives of our time are not the ones who have the best ideas – they are the ones who know how to have a good conversation.

  • Peace is found when we stop running, not by running harder.

As I read back through most of my newsletters, I was struck and amazed by my own writing at times. I also realized that I have been leaving breadcrumbs for my future self all year. It is important to be proud of yourself, to amaze and astonish yourself, and to think, “Wow, I did that?” It isn’t selfish or egotistic. After all, we are really the true audience of anything we create, so whether that is a piece of writing you’ve made, a mantle you decorated, or a spreadsheet you cleaned up, remember to take a moment to step back and admire your own work. It’s worth it, I promise.

However, I think my favorite aphorism of all is very simple: Our lives are the stories we tell ourselves. 

You don’t have to wait for a birthday, anniversary, or special event to look backwards and admire how far you’ve come.

Grab a piece of paper and start a bullet point list of everything you’ve accomplished so far today, then in the last week, the last month, 3 months, year, and so on. I bet you’ll be surprised at how far you’ve come.

Before closing out this week’s newsletter, my final thought to offer you is my gratitude. I love writing this newsletter every week for many reasons, but chief among them is the hope it offers you a different way of seeing the world.

I am deeply grateful for everyone who opens this at some point throughout their week or takes the time to let me know they’ve enjoyed something I’ve written.

I know I have a whimsical, fantastical, and often romanticized view of the world, and sometimes that causes me to do things like buy a bus that breaks down in Arkansas and has to be towed to avoid an impending ice storm. Life really is one big adventure, and my hope is that in some way, I inspire you to live more fully and intentionally, more creatively, and more interestingly - whatever that looks like for you.

In other words, to live uninterrupted.

Until next time,

~Coleman