Every two weeks, I share my thoughts about investing, career transitions, meaningful work, parenting, living intentionally, and other topics that engage me. I'm in my fifties and still trying to figure stuff out.
Welcome. π Every two weeks, I share my writing on investing, career transitions, meaningful work, parenting, living intentionally, and other topics that engage me. I'm still trying to figure stuff out. Was this newsletter forwarded to you? See past articles and subscribe here. Small TreatiesIn July 1944, 730 delegates from 44 countries assembled at the Mount Washington Hotel in Bretton Woods, New Hampshire. As World War II entered its final phase, the Allied powers gathered in a spirit of collaboration to establish a more integrated global financial and commercial architecture for the post-war playing field. Last Saturday morning, I stood staring at the same Mount Washington Hotel and the stunning White Mountains that form its backdrop. Azure sky. Bright sun. Open fields and snow-capped peaks. The scene's serenity contrasted with the ongoing assault on the institutions and ideas formulated in the Bretton Woods Agreements. But while global frameworks may wobble or fracture, I was about to be reminded that there are bonds no political upheaval can shake. I wasn't there to make sense of the world. Or maybe I was, just on a more human scale. Specifically, I was there for a morning of Nordic skiing with one of my high school roommates, who was visiting from Spain. His appearance was a last-minute surprise addition to our small group of high school classmates reconnecting after 30+ years. We hit the Nordic trails while four others tackled the downhill slopes at Bretton Woods. As we glided over the snow, I thought about how those 730 delegates once walked these same grounds, trying to build something that would last. Despite our differences, our small group of six had managed to build something lasting as well, not through formal agreements, but through decades of showing up for each other. By late afternoon, our older muscles sufficiently sore, we reconvened at our home base for the weekend, a cozy A-frame near North Conway. The funny thing about old friends is how quickly the years melt away. We're different people now: husbands, parents, community leaders. But as we shed our ski gear and settled in, the familiar rhythms returned. The same music. The same stories. The same comfortable silences. Around the TableOver dinner, the conversation deepened naturally, built on decades of trust. As a result, our stories elicit a wide emotional range, from heartfelt joy to deep emotional pain. We're simply listening, understanding, and being present for each other. Several in the group lost parents in the past year. Others contend with the challenges of caring for rapidly aging parents or navigating painful family dynamics. Many of us have teenagers heading to college or young adults trying to find their way in a world that feels more fractured than the one we knew. We share experiences and acknowledge the challenging yet rewarding work of parenting. Work comes up too. At this stage of life, we're all thinking about meaning more than money. Many of us have navigated dramatic career pivots over the past few years:
Earlier, I had eaten lunch at the hotel where the modern financial system was born. Now at the A-frame, our dinner conversation turns to purpose and fulfillment. While those delegates had focused on stabilizing currencies, we find ourselves drawn to the deeper exchanges that give life its value. FarewellsSunday morning arrives early. Two friends are leaving for a backcountry hike and ski, so we rise to say farewells over coffee (and move our cars to let them out). As the goodbyes begin, there are hugs all around. These small gestures of care, accumulated over decades, have become our own kind of international currency. Before the final hugs, we agree to meet again, same time next year. A small treaty, sealed without signatures. On the drive home, I think about the linkages between Bretton Woods and our unofficial reunion. Some might say the Bretton Woods system is unraveling in real-time. That may indeed be true. Amidst sweeping change both at home and abroad, the weekend leaves me feeling more grounded than before. While global institutions may fracture, small, sturdy bridges between friends still hold. Other StuffInvestment Volume Rises; Debt Fundamentals Improve The quarterly capital markets report from CBRE shows signs of improvement in commercial real estate lending trends. Of note, investment volume increased in Q4 by 31% year-over-year to $121 billion. Also, as shown below, spreads narrowed 49bps y-o-y to the tightest level since Q1 of 2022 perhaps indicating more optimism for 2025. βRead the report (7 mins) Graham Duncan: Talent Whisperer I've listened to this Invest Like the Best interview twice already, and I've queued it up for another listen. Some of the more thought-provoking ideas from this conversation between Patrick O'Shaughnessy and Graham Duncan include the power of positive feedback loops, finding your compulsion, the value of transitions, and identifying investment talent. βListen to the podcast (2 hrs) Productivity Rain Dances Cal Newport describes and comments on the term "Productivity Rain Dances," which he credits to Chris Williamson. The concept refers to engaging in activities that feel busy but don't necessarily lead to productive results over time. This reminded me of the difference between running on a treadmill vs. running to a destination. While both activities can be described as running, only one gets you closer to where you want to go. Rain dances can be satisfying. They feel important and active in the moment, and give you all sorts of little details to tweak and adjust. But ultimately, if your goal is to reap a rich harvest, thereβs no avoiding the necessity to get down among your crops, sweat on your brow, and actually work the land. βRead the post (3 mins) And a Farewell Photo...β β |
Every two weeks, I share my thoughts about investing, career transitions, meaningful work, parenting, living intentionally, and other topics that engage me. I'm in my fifties and still trying to figure stuff out.