What is the most important concept that any organization that comes together under any capacity has to contend with? Is it the objective, or it's stated reason for being (the why)? Operations, perhaps: how do you do what the organization has set out to do? People, you may say: who is doing the tasks (human or otherwise).

I'd argue it's none of these.

The most important concept in any organization is the concept of derivation: sourcing something from a point of origin. It may seem odd or abstract, or, conversely, it may seem like it's common sense: the problem of derivation is the single biggest constraint that prevents organizations from scaling, that accounts for mistakes, that encourages fraud, or loses revenue to competitors. Oddly, deriving things of value from base level sources allows organizations to stand out from their competitors, helps you build better systems, and encourages appropriate auditing of how you get to what you see.

(Published unfinished.)

I'm not in a good mood this morning.

There's a lot going on, and I feel like I'm holding the reins of a thousand horses going in all different directions. I don't really do well under immense amounts of stress (at least, I feel that way), but somehow I feel like I'm always under this kind of pressure, either voluntarily or not. Generally, there's a saying that if everyone is the problem then you're the problem (or something like that), but in this particular case I just feel like there are too many people who are vying for my attention and very few of those to whom I want to give it.

Yesterday I had a solid workout. I finished a good chunk of the work I needed to get done. I read an entire book from start to finish (granted, it was the Art of War which is like 30 pages, but still). I meditated, took a cold shower, logged my diet and had a meal with gratitude. I did everything I said I wanted to do in day to make my day successful. And yet I still feel like a failure. Why is that?

Perhaps failure is the incorrect word. Maybe it's something along the lines of me doing a lot of things that I think I want to do, and yet I'm still finding something to be lacking or missing. Odd, isn't it, especially considering the fact that I keep saying that I have too much on my plate. However, I feel like there's a crucial piece of my day that's missing, something that I'm supposed to be doing but I'm not.

I feel like a lot of the things I do is because it's supposed to be good for me, or it's things I'm supposed to do, or it's things that are expected of me. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of these things that I truly enjoy doing. However, I do feel like there's not enough of those things that I do strictly for enjoyment's sake. As I'm writing this, I hear an inner dialogue in me: "be a man. You're not supposed to like it. Stop complaining and stop being a little bitch and get after it." Fair. Very fair. However, allow me to rebut (to myself).

Doing things you don't like doing doesn't necessarily make you a man, a tougher person, or even stronger. Sometimes, it makes you weak, because sometimes you do things that you're comfortable with. Sometimes, you do things that are easy because you know the way to do them, and because you don't have to take risks. And because you don't want to take risks, you stay in your comfort zone. Because you are staying in your comfort zone but you hate what you do, you complain.

Be a man. Maybe you are supposed to like it but because it's too hard you don't. Stop complaining and stop being a little bitch and take risks and get after it.

On a recent episode of the excellent podcast Modern Wisdom, tech entrepreneur (and master tweeter) Naval Ravikant said something that's stuck with me:

what you do, who you do with, and how you do it are way more important than how hard you work

I've been mulling this over in my mind a lot, especially with the holiday season now having started. Specifically, I've been thinking about the question there of "who".

The people we choose to surround ourselves with obviously have a massive impact on us. We tend to have similar interests, values, life goals, and the like. We impact them just as much as they impact us. I remember being introduced to many rappers and producers because my friends and I would share these artists' music with each other, and that has gone on to influence a giant part of our lives. But I think that there's something deeper there.

See, people are complicated. Duh. But what that means is that each person is multifaceted and is the sum of a number of parts. What makes it even more complicated is the ouroboros-ness (is that even remotely able to be a word?) of the question of nature vs. nurture: the environment that we are in influences who we are, and who we are influences the environment that we are in. Now break the concept of who we are into many different facets as discussed before, and you can see yet another reason why people find it so difficult to come to a consensus on this. Let's pull on this, because I believe that being around others changes who you are not only in the long term but also in the short term.

It's easy to see how long-term exposure to anything (or anyone, in this case) can alter you. Being around driven people all the time will automatically make you more driven. Being around constant drinkers will make you more susceptible to alcoholism. You get the point. But this is a function of constant short term exposure to these same people. It may seem, well, obvious, but there's a question on the flip side to this: how impactful can a person be on you (or you on them) if you're only exposed to someone for a short period of time once in a while?

The reason that this has been circling in my mind is because for the holidays I've historically gone back to my hometown. Many times you hear about people going back home and seeing their old friends who never left: they're in dead end jobs, living in their parents' basement, their lives are a mess, you get the point. But thankfully, my friends back home are the type of people who you want to be surrounded by: hard working, driven, fit in a physical and mental (and, also, financial) way. This is who they are as people. I meet up with them, we get a workout and some lunch in, and we go out separate ways. We don't even speak that often (maybe once or twice a month), but I consider them my best friends.

Why is it, then, that they inspire me to become better the same way that they're getting after it? What is it about their good habits that permeate time and space to make me continue going hard towards my goals, but bad habits creep in when I'm surrounded by a crowd that's indulging in those behaviors I wish to avoid?

It might be just as simple as that: good things are inherently good, and nothing, neither time nor space, will prevent those ideas from spreading. Bad habits, on the other hand, inherently have a preventative measure that requires a lack of distance. And maybe it's just that that makes them my very best friends.

Let's get after it today and revisit ohr thoughts tomorrow.

Vivek