Whelp. That was a year. As I re-read last year’s birthday blog post, I get goosebumps. Published on March 31st, a few days after my birthday, the company where I work had just announced a three months 20% salary reduction/one day a week furlough. COVID cases were skyrocketing. I had just jumped on an early flight back from London a few days earlier, cutting a business trip short, and was still pondering if I’d been exposed to COVID during my December visit to the Anhui, Fujian, and Hunan provinces.
I closed out the post by saying, “So… who knows where this year will take us. Some things will change dramatically. But, in general, history assures me that much will also remain the same. I can only hope that this crisis builds the foundations of a new renaissance in investment in people, social programs, health, welfare, and education. Let’s see where next year finds me. It’s guaranteed to be one heck of an eventful year.” And that seems a fitting way to start this post.
But first, for those unfamiliar, every year I publish a birthday reflection post. I hope you’ll enjoy these thoughts and take them for what they are – an attempt to share the world as I see it and how I relate to it. You can view my 35th, birthday post here, 34th birthday post here, 33rd birthday post here, 32nd birthday post here, 31st birthday post here, my more detailed 30th birthday post here, my musings on turning 29 here, or 28 here. As well as a long-forgotten blog post written on my 23rd birthday (wow, have I really been blogging that long?) which you can view here. These posts are long and they have a lot of widely different topics in them. Feel free to jump between sub-headings.
Introverts vs. Extroverts
If you asked two dozen folks who know me, most would say I’m an extrovert. In truth, I recharge and function as an introvert. This all just goes to say that social situations drain me of energy, while downtime and recharging lost in projects or operating very much at my own pace recharges me. One of the most interesting aspects of the pandemic and corresponding lockdowns has been a societal reversal from an extrovert-centric environment to an introvert-centric environment. While both groups have suffered significantly during the pandemic, especially as it has dragged on, the crisis has been disproportionately challenging for extroverts.
It took me a while to understand just how difficult it was for extroverts. At some level, it felt like watching one of those dreadful war scenes where the horses are charging forward and the underground trap suddenly trips them, catapulting line after line of horse and rider forcibly face-first into the ground. It was a strange contrast. After all, on my end, I largely felt the anxiety of the growing pandemic and frustration over the loss of chunks of my routine and social calendar—especially bi-weekly dancing. But, suddenly, not having to push to socialize and being able to relax and take things at my own pace felt almost…nice. The exhaustion and weight of the pandemic and the emotional burden meant that my productivity and overall energy remained flat or declined a bit. But it was more the sensation of having a few grains of sand added to my shoes every day. Nothing like the catastrophic faceplant and semi-panicked behavior I saw from extroverts.
I don’t think there’s any way to actively explore it, but I have a strong suspicion that a large group of COVID deniers are likely just extroverts in such a state of unbalance and dysfunction that they’ll latch on to any life raft to re-socialize. At some level, there’s likely an avenue for future research there, especially when it leads to such adverse societal and health outcomes for both the extroverts and the introverts.
All of this led me to explore my own long-running relationship with the delicate balance between energy, health, and focus. As an introvert, who enjoys many social activities, and who has always pushed himself to engage socially—I’ve spent years mapping how it impacts me and the direct cause and effect. The rush of a major social event or series of social activities and then the corresponding crash, exhaustion, and melancholy mood as I feel depleted brings on a need to recharge in the days that follow. Similarly, building a mixture of in-person and digital conversations that allow me to be social, but at my own pace, with my own timing reflects the focus, intensity, and depth I have energy for in that moment. Other practices, such as my four-day rule which I introduced in last year’s birthday post —are also directly tailored to supporting this balance.
Through personal observation and experience this has led me to the belief that in general we have a highly extrovert-centric society. Which, of course, makes a lot of sense. We are social creatures. We are communally oriented and over time, we have placed an ever-increasing amount of value on pro-social behavior. That pro-social behavior often takes the form of extrovert-leaning activities. Where this becomes interesting in the pandemic sense, is that introverts exist in constant friction with that extroverted societal environment. The way introverts recharge, their timing, their pacing, and the way introverts need to socialize, is constantly misunderstood, attacked, and generally problematic for a more seamless integration with society. Importantly, this means introverts are constantly working to develop coping mechanisms and behaviors that foster a deep level of social resiliency.
Extroverts? Not so much. For extroverts the solution to a lack of social stimulation or limiting social environment is to double down on the existing social framework. Throw a party, join a sports club, go to a bar, join an activities club, call a bunch of friends and talk on the phone. In this way the solution for an extrovert who has landed in a more introvert-oriented situation is to just pivot away from it and redouble efforts to connect.
Until they couldn’t. The pandemic did something that is historically exceedingly uncommon. It pivoted the societal paradigm from an extrovert-centric environment and value-system, to a more introvert-oriented value system. In so doing, every coping mechanism and social tool extroverts had at their disposal suddenly became problematic and they found themselves starting from scratch and grossly unprepared for coping with their new environment. Horse and rider mid-gallup suddenly found themselves slammed into an immovable barrier.
Not only has that been challenging for individuals, but also societally it has been deeply problematic as all of their traditionally pro-social behavior actually begins to have the opposite outcome. It has become anti-social behavior that puts the individual and greater group at risk. The result has been large spikes in anxiety, strong feelings of social isolation, and unfortunately a huge uptick in anti-social behavior as many of these individuals have attached to any available lifeline, regardless of whether it was real or the danger it posed. Cue up, the mass adoption of conspiracy theories, anti-vaccine and lockdown protests, and various other deeply damaging activities which have lengthened the pandemic, increased the death rate, and caused significant social issues. Are these purely the domain of extroverts? Not at all. But, where I initially chalked up much of the anti-social behavior purely to narcissism, low levels of empathy, a dab of extremely poor scientific literacy, and excessive egocentric behavior—I’ve come to view it as something a bit different. What we’re actually seeing now are people emotionally drowning and lashing out blindly in a slow-motion state of panic.
Constructively, this poses two big challenges for society moving forward. The first, is how to build and foster some degree of enhanced resiliency in extroverts so they’re better emotionally equipped to weather situations and events that are less extrovert-oriented. While we hopefully won’t face new waves of lockdowns in the coming decades, developing more resilience and better balance should play a powerful and healthy role in enhancing extroverts’ relational success, resistance to conspiracy-based social movements, and similar pressures. The second, is an enhanced level of empathy and awareness for just how challenging the day-to-day status quo in society can be for introverts and the unhealthy pressures that impact them. It’s my hope that if this becomes talked about more broadly, more people will better understand and create more space for introverts to function more seamlessly in social, work, and related environments once we “return to normal”.
The Exploitation of Anonymity in Expat Groups
I think I’ve always been fascinated by culture and people. From the first family trips to Mexico before I could walk, to our year spent backpacking Europe as a family when 11, and later on my summer study abroad trip to the British Isles – it has been an endlessly interesting topic. At times it’s the pursuit of a better understanding of my own culture; other times it’s the fascinating depth of discovering a new culture or cultural sub-category. It shaped my Bachelors and Masters projects and is a dimension of my book, Practical Curiosity.
In my Masters thesis I explored the concept of anonymity and its evolving nature as it shapes hostel and backpacker culture. There, I looked at two competing points of friction. The one – the ever-decreasing anonymity for individuals who wanted to experiment, find themselves, or explore aspects of themselves independent of the network, judgment, and supervision of their home network (think of this as someone from extremely fundamentalist parents, an LGBTQ individual, etc). The second – the way Facebook and social platforms had destroyed a large portion of that anonymity and the related opportunity for self discovery through constant connectivity and monitoring/social bleed (think of this as your grandma being on facebook, your parents, and your boss). This can be challenging, but at the same time, those same networks have made maintaining contacts when we move, who we met on the road, and protecting and continuing memories, has also become much easier.
Little did I know that one side-effect of the pandemic and its massive disruption to every aspect of our lives would include one of the most significant and bizarre betrayals I’ve ever experienced. In July I’ll cross the 10-year mark in Denmark as an expat. As part of that journey, I’ve been lucky to create and join a series of fantastic social groups full of incredible people from around the world. Similar to my approach back in Arizona, the central tenant when facilitating and creating these groups has been a focus on people who are passionate, who are easy-going, don’t fight, are largely drug-free, are motivated and navigate life with accepting open arms. While the groups often include people with robust academic credentials or professional achievements, it’s also equally welcoming to those who decided to skip the degree, or are focused less flashy careers or alternate career paths. The key is they are kind, they are genuine, they are present, and they are supportive of each other.
Similar to the dance community – which can share some characteristics – there’s an unspoken aspect of expat circles that create a space for people to come together and connect based on shared experience, not a long list of pre-qualifications. You share the aspects of your daily life, work and relationships you want to, and the group is curious, but not invasive.
In general this serves as the social lubricant for a healthy and robust expat (or dance) community. It’s one of the things I love about the two. For someone like me who loves different people, different perspectives, and different stories – it’s a beautiful constantly evolving blend of wonderful company.
I’ve now come to realize on reflection, that it’s also, unfortunately, chum in the water for social predators and those with psychopathic tendencies. All of the dimensions I’ve outlined above end up creating an attractive environment for individuals with anti-social behavioral issues. The open and less judgmental nature of international social circles allows skilled individuals to relocate to a new place, shape a profile, and then operate with less scrutiny or back story. If, or when, these individuals are found out, shut out or cut off, the constant changing dynamics of expat groups make it harder to see an immediate correlation. And, if things ultimately go fully south for the individual, they can pick up and relocate to a new city, or country and start over with relative impunity and minimal inconvenience.
For years there has been a subset of the travel and expat community I’ve actively avoided in part because these individuals tend to be drawn to certain types of events and groups. But, despite that, I’ve now had two people in my ten years in Denmark who managed to penetrate deeply into close social circles, eventually wreaking havoc. Each had a very different behavior profile, and in both cases they had a very polished and honed social skill – the Swiss army knife of sorts – that they used to great effect.
So, what happened most recently? Five years ago we welcomed an individual into the group who had recently relocated to Copenhagen. The story went that she was coming to study for a PhD, had a journalism background, and was introduced to a friend via an extended network. That type of introduction where a friend of a friend sees someone in their network relocating and then aspires to be helpful and makes an introduction.
She was gregarious, often very low-key, extremely well read, and while oddly prickly at times – largely came across as a nurturing motherly figure with a constant eagerness to play the role of confidant. Over the past five years she completed her PhD, went on to teach at several of the local Universities, and then pivoted to a private sector innovation-based regional hub. At least, that was the story.
About two years in, she and I came to heads in a series of exchanges where I noticed she was consistently exclusionary. To others, I’m sure it looked like I was being a bit unfair. After all, cliques are natural and it can be exhausting to maintain a larger circle. But, I was bothered by what I saw as an unwelcoming and exclusionary trend that she’d been nudging things toward. It was an early red flag I overlooked. Eventually we reconciled and later went on to travel together when she asked to join me on one of my 8 day trips. We shared deep and technical conversations, and outside of some ongoing quirkiness in a few of her stories and our conversations about our relationships, our trip went off as planned.
Fast forward to the pandemic, and suddenly I end up being pulled into a conversation that left me shocked and scratching my head. A mutual friend discretely brought it to my attention that while the woman’s name and identity were real, the entire narrative she’d created around the past five years was fabricated. What came next was a series of increasingly rigorous steps to try and disprove the implication. Through an intense feeling of discomfort and as though I was somehow betraying her trust and friendship, I started with Google searches, then university directory searches, then cross-referenced linkedin and other platforms. With each new step, I realized that more and more of the information that should have been there was missing.
With a sinking knot in my stomach, I carefully reached out to a couple others in the group. I was deeply aware that to raise the question risked poisoning not only my relationship but their own. It strayed into unfair territory for the woman if, it all ended up being a malicious lie or misunderstanding. They were shocked but further confirmed what I was running into.
Turns out it was all a lie. There had never been a PhD, not so much as an offer. She’d never graduated or taught. The workplace where she said she worked had never heard of her. Instead, it eventually came out, she worked as a cleaner at a hotel in the countryside. Every aspect of her persona was laced with lies. Down to the photos she claimed she was taking and posting on her instagram of small things like food and the beach.
Worse, I started to learn that under the guise of being the maternal caring listener, she was also being viciously emotionally manipulative behind the scenes, spreading a wealth of lies about folks in the group, and in almost every sense possible a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Eventually, the evidence was such that I had to challenge her, knowing full well it was the right thing to do and regardless of the outcome would kill the friendship. If it was all some misunderstanding – she’d inevitably feel so betrayed it would be unlikely there’d be reconciliation. If it was all the lie it looked to be – that’s a level of dangerous toxicity I won’t tolerate near me.
So, I sent the message. An overview of some of what I knew, a very to-the-facts message, that stressed it was time to come clean or provide a very, very, compelling explanation.
She doubled down. Acted shocked. And offered to set up a coffee with her supposed boss upon her return from a “remote working vacation” 3 months later. She also gave me the name of her “PhD supervisor” and a questionable number to call. The PhD supervisor’s name mirrored that of a Nazi war criminal – which if it was passive-aggressive or coincidence, is impossible to say as no actual academic was active. The coffee with a boss from another country was odd. It was at that point I asked for the simplest bit of evidence to put the whole thing to bed; an e-mail from her work account. An e-mail I knew didn’t exist, as I’d already tried the company’s various standard formulations. As expected, the e-mail never came and that was the end of it. We’ve since made sure she stopped mis-representing the Copenhagen story on her LinkedIn – but within days a new identity popped up in another country.
The true tragedy of the whole thing, is that if she’d come to the table as her true professional self, and the warm-hearted, gregarious, listener that she conveyed herself to be, we’d have welcomed her completely. Luckily, it seems the extent of her interest was social. Just as her polished skill was social deflection and integration, it was also where her efforts ended. No bigger story. No eventful conclusion. Just a shrug, and a pivot to her next long-con.
Normally, I’d avoid dedicating so much space in an annual post to such a negative story. But, it also served as a powerful reminder, and one of my most powerful learning experiences of this past year.
One – Confidence: We’ve heard a lot about gaslighting the past few years. That is to say, “a form of psychological manipulation in which a person or a group covertly sows seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or group, making them question their own memory, perception, or judgment.” But rarely do you see it play out in such a clear-cut way. The truly insidious thing about her approach was that at every step of the way, she hid behind and exploited important aspects of the social contract: trust, respect, privacy, and earnestness. To the point that even at the very end, caught dead to rights, her reaction was to double down and try to bluff her way out of it by exploiting my sense of loyalty.
Even with all of that evidence on hand. Even having been focused purely on the verifiable aspects of things. Even having given her chances beyond what I should have. I still felt guilty and wondered if I wasn’t somehow the bad guy doing the wrong thing…betraying our friendship.
Two – Types of Lies: In the three instances over the years I’ve had a psychopath or near-psychopath slip into extended groups some things are the same, some things are different. They bring some level of charisma and exploit a soft spot. The men have been flashy, gregarious, and outwardly successful both professionally or academically and in meeting women. They’ve built a sort of archetypical male identity, but have also been extremely available. Ultimately, it was their aggressive and disrespectful way of interacting with women, which was the red flag. In the woman’s case, she took on a motherly confidant type of role … that of empathic listener, but honed into a powerful tool. She’d use that illusion of care and curiosity to deflect questions or stories about herself and then draw on other stories she’d been told and shape those into her own myth.
In both cases, part of what makes us vulnerable to these false identities is our own self-interest. The men offer company, validation, and seemingly social or professional opportunities. They seem like an always available drinking/business business partner or wingman that shores up some insecurity or embodies a trait we’re aspiring towards. It’s only later you learn that their approach to getting it is corrupted. In the woman’s case she offered a confidant, someone that plays on our own vanity and desire to tell our story. A clever and carefully crafted ability to casually deflect and mirror in a way that keeps them from having to tell overly complex lies while seemingly conveying a sense that they’ve been sharing at an equally vulnerable and deep level. Even now, more than a year and a half after that 8 day trip, I’m processing through a very real insight into the narcissistic tendencies she was able to exploit. How, after 8 days of long conversations and discussion, could I have walked away without having done enough listening to have seen through her deceptions. True, much of it was about abstract topics like technology. But, still, there’s a deep insight there for me that perhaps my ability to speak and my ability to listen have slipped out of sync over the past few years.
Three – Toxicity: One thing I’ve observed in all three cases is that these types of damaged profiles typically have a social shelf life of 10-14 months. They’ll often last longer in larger social groups, but only by exploiting the group dynamic. For a mixture of reasons, people will catch on to, or be immune to their bullshit. That, or they’ll be on the receiving end of the manipulative side of things and drop off feeling a mixture of emotions – part betrayal, part unheard, and part gaslit – assuming it’s just them.
By being gregarious, by being constantly available, and by assuming a visible role – the manipulator ingratiates themselves across the group. With limited exposure and information, and their tendency for message control, it creates a situation where those who see through the individual or have an epiphany don’t have an easy path to staying active in the group and confronting the individual. To do so, makes the person doing the right thing, seem like they’re creating issues and having a personality clash. This sort of fight isn’t worth taking a lot of times, or isn’t visible. It drives them from the group.
The psychopathic profile is also fantastic at nudging and manipulating groups through exclusion or lies. I mentioned around the two year mark getting into it with the woman about just this trend. In retrospect it’s clear it wasn’t just traditional clique behavior. It was a need to create a controlled smaller circle where the lies were less likely to get out and the outward appearance was one of exclusion.
The tragedy of these toxic individuals is that they simultaneously corrupt and fragment healthy vibrant and supportive social circles while also doing reputational damage by way of negative association. They can do irreparable harm to deep friendships as well as profound professional harm. The key is to actively pay attention when people are nudging towards exclusionary activities. To always be suspicious of gossip, especially that makes little sense, and be mindful of when and where people drop out of groups. Trust your gut, and strive to avoid confusing availability with authenticity.
Four – Forgiveness and Sympathy: A deep and prolonged deception is never a good thing. But, not all deceptions are equal. It’s important to hold space in your heart to forgive a wrong, a misunderstanding, or a deception. But, at the same time, there is a strong difference between forgiveness, acceptance and reconciliation. To forgive is to acknowledge the wrongdoing, and to wash the slate clean. To accept is to acknowledge the wrongdoing, and decide not to dwell, to focus on moving on, and to ensure you no longer waste time or energy. Reconciliation on the other hand may or may not include forgiveness, but is the intentional decision to re-engage or to continue to engage with a deceptive individual.
In the case I mentioned this year, my approach has been acceptance with a mixture of pity but no road to reconciliation. When dealing with this category of bad actor – they’re not individuals that show isolated bad judgment, or have made a few small mistakes–these are people who repeatedly, at a deep level, make the decision to act in gross personal interest, to mislead, and to exploit the people around them. In her case, there may have been a wide number of reasons and insecurities that motivated the preliminary lie. But at every opportunity that arose to clear the air, to do the right thing, or to act with empathy and integrity – she chose not to. More than that, she doubled down, and doled out egregious gas lighting paired with emotional games and abuse.
In this instance, the absolute best solution is to immediately several all contact and connections. To explain the situation to any mutual friends impacted by the decision. And to accept that the individual is what they are and will continue to be who they are. That the potential or the mask they show the world can’t be fixed by you. We need to be diligent to ensure that the individuals we choose to surround ourselves should always be healthy, earnest, genuinely empathic, and true friends. In these cases I look at the person’s core actions, their default hardwiring and that core firmware that drives them – not the fancy performance they layer on top. Then I use that to make my decision. Keep space in your mind and in your heart to forgive those that deserve it, and who show that they’re learning, growing, and engaging from a place of decency and empathy, not manipulation and self interest. Step away from others inextricably wedded to their dysfunction.
Five – Learn But Remain Open: One of the immediate impulses after something like this comes along is to withdraw or to be skeptical and untrusting. By a pure risk mitigation metric you might assume that because I believe there’s an increased number of these types of predatory personalities drawn to expat communities because of their transitory nature – that I’m skeptical or avoidant of expat communities. Quite the contrary. I think it’s important to keep an eye open and to be aware that they’re there, but to fully embrace and lean into the wonderful accepting, inclusive, and expansive traits that make these communities so powerful. Having a few extra bad apples in the pond is just the tradeoff for enjoying a more diverse, inclusive, and expansive pond. But, it’s also a good reminded to trust your gut and to act with your eyes wide-open.
What’s a MistDefender?
It has now been a few years since I launched my book Practical Curiosity. To my shock and delight it’s still out there finding its way into people’s hands and there were 6 bought in the last 90 days. Given I’m not doing anything to actively promote it—and my original expectation was to sell a grand total of around 5 books, I’m tickled. But, I’ve been a bit quiet on big projects the last couple years and one reason for that is I’ve been slowly working to bring a new project to life.
For more than 15 years, I’ve been wanting to try my hand at a side project. I’ve dabbled here and there, learning skills, and been sidetracked by other projects—my travel blog, the book, and a few others. In the early 00s I was playing with “TwoLikes” that was an idea a bit like elements of Tinder and Hinge. There was also some casual investigation into a travel supplement to fight jetlag, and I had an idea to improve Vitamin D convenience by creating Vitamin D infused gum back in 2016/17. To my parents and brother’s credit, they humor me, listen to each idea, and support me as I contemplate and investigate.
For a variety of reasons I decided each of the above wasn’t the right blend. Either due to development costs, the rise of established competitors, a lack of core skills (I can’t code beyond basic HTML) or a general tendency toward distraction and loss of interest. But, with each idea I was on the hunt for an innovative and creative project that would allow me to test the concept with a relatively low initial prototyping and development budget. I’ve also been on the lookout for a low maintenance product that I could use to supplement my existing income and without any specific plan or intent for making it my full-time job.
This has been a great mental tool for taking in the world around me. In the same way you might play – guess the person’s back story while at the airport killing time – sitting and observing each person, then breaking down their choice of dress, mannerisms, behavior and other social cues – I’ve looked at the world and considered potential innovations. How does this work? Why does this work? How did they manufacture or develop this? What’s the supply chain? How complex is this? What’s a patent? Trademark? How does global trade work? Essentially I’m constantly looking at the world around me and asking what makes sense, what doesn’t, why and how.
In addition to the ideas mentioned previously, it also led to other musings and reflections like my post on the potential societal impact of a post-meat world (2018) and a potential idea for a new way of monetizing video content (also 2018). At some level, I was undecided on whether it was simply a great tool for exploring the world around me or if it was actually going to lead to an idea I was ready to commit time, and even more importantly, money into.
Then, the fall after finishing Practical Curiosity, I took an extended road trip with my brother in Iceland. As part of the trip, we photographed in a wide range of challenging environments (after all, what’s Iceland famous for?) and there I had an idea for a new product. I remember vividly when it hit me, sitting and defrosting numb fingers in the car after getting drenched by snowmelt and waterfall mist. From there, as we talked it through, I realized it had the potential to meet many of the criteria I’d set for myself. I think timing was also quite important here, as I’d pushed through my imposter syndrome a few months earlier to publish the book and had it well received which gave me incremental confidence to move forward.
From there I spent the next few months researching and prototyping. I delved into patents, trademarks, Amazon, fulfillment, manufacturing, product imports – you name it. Essentially a crash course in learning the breakdown of costs at each step of the journey, major roadblocks, as well as all the early admin questions that no one teaches you. What’s the difference between a sole proprietorship and an LLC? How do you import a product? How do you engage with manufacturers and not get taken advantage of? Is it really financially viable or practical to file for a patent? Can you defend it? What’s the value of a trademark and does it really require a lawyer? You name it.
Throughout the process, the initial prototype idea and market research moved quickly. Within a few months (and with some prototyping support from my mom) I had a fully functional mockup of the product and a general idea for what the cost would be confirming it was viable. At which point, things stalled out. There was a component I wanted to add but couldn’t figure out how to achieve it. We prototyped and prototyped and prototyped. But, the end result didn’t meet my goals and ultimately undermined the core USPs of the product. In total, I think this burned about a year’s worth of time and energy. True enough, I was also educating myself on all the other aspects of the business including securing the name, branding, and creating the “fun” elements. But, it dragged on, until I realized the solution was to focus on simplicity. From there, I was back in business, and spent another 6 or so months going back and forth with vendors on Alibaba. Each prototype cost me about two weeks and $75 with shipping. I ran into language barriers. Cultural barriers and my absolute lack of knowledge about the space. I had no idea what fabric weights meant or translated into. The same for packaging and paper weight. Have you ever considered how easily scratched a box is? Or how the size and weight of a product will impact Amazon’s storage and fulfillment costs….and shipping costs….and potentially catapult a product from profitable to a loss because it was a few grams too heavy or cm too wide.
It was a fascinating experience and one where I felt like a complete idiot flailing around most of the time. In previous birthday posts I’ve talked a bit about how we have narratives for ourselves and eventually reach a level of mastery and then get comfortable. I’d been beating myself up for letting elements of my world shrink while not replacing them with new narratives or challenges; where I hesitated to start as a novice again out of fear or discomfort. But, I think I also neglected to consider how that really wasn’t true – I was in fact doing it with MistDefender and all that went with it.
Through it all, I had a nagging fear that I was missing some massive piece. That I hadn’t asked some pivotal question that would be common sense to everyone else. After all, why wasn’t there a similar product already on the market? Was I biting off way more than I could chew by tackling so much without any pre-existing expertise in the field? But, throughout the process I constantly reminded myself that while it was good to be careful and cautious, it was also essential that I didn’t use these as excuses to hedge or hide behind. And so, I read. I watched videos. I reached out to people in my network who were fantastic and helped to offer input, and their own experiences, and feedback. And, then I started to take educated risks.
$75 a prototype adds up, especially when you consider that it’s not just for the item. It’s for each component of the final product. Then separately for the packaging. Even something as simple as labeling and stickers bring added costs and mistakes. Webhosting? Another $100. Want to file a trademark to get improved access on Amazon? $250 to do it yourself, $1,000 if you play it safe with a lawyer. All of which is small potatoes to start a mainstream business – but for an experimental side project? Especially where you’re only likely to make $5 or $10 an item, at most, if you’re lucky? That $1,000 for a trademark would require 100, 200, maybe even 300 sales before I’d even come close to breaking even. Ouch. Each step gives you a much deeper respect for small business owners and just how much each step takes.
Still, it all started to come together. I watched the videos, I researched how to file the trademark, and I got ready to do it myself. Then, I sat and I stared at the screen for two days waiting and second guessing if I was ready to do it. The nature of the product meant that my first order would be more than 1,000 units. It was far from a small commitment. Even with an upfront cost that was within what I’d set for myself as acceptable for startup costs – it wasstill sizable enough to be uncomfortable. And then, the imposter syndrome and second guessing was back.
I’d proven I could create it. I learned so much from the process. Was I really 100% confident in the product or had I sold myself on my own story. Had I done enough QA and testing? What if the manufacturing was somehow wrong, or the packaging didn’t end up working? Or Amazon rejected me? For those who followed my launch of Practical Curiosity, you may recognize very similar threads and narratives. Even as they stressed me, and I worked through them, I had to chuckle. Again, it was that same fear of putting it out there, of investing in myself, and the risk of public failure. But, it also came with a secondary fear. An ironic fear of too much success. What if I burned through my inventory in days not months? What if it rapidly grew into a major business that needed attention, employees, and to be more than just a side project? Was that what I even wanted? Needless to say, it’s a strange sensation sitting there and freaking yourself out simultaneously about complete failure and raging success with both being equally unlikely.
So, I pushed forward. I placed the orders, and challenges did come up. I had to tweak my packaging due to issues with one of the design flourishes. Amazon rejected my first store request, and then my first brand profile leading to just under a month of delays and petitions to get everything sorted. Some of the first boxes arrived badly damaged by the shipping company/airline and I thought it was going to cost me a number of products. I proceeded with filing the trademark myself. And I have run headlong into challenges getting the digital ads and influencer campaign at a point that generates the awareness and sales volume I am hoping for.
Yet, despite all of that, the reception and support has been amazing. Early friends and family, and my photography network have been nothing short of spectacularly supportive in picking up a MistDefender, sharing news of it with friends, and leaving ratings and reviews which are so, so, so incredibly helpful early on in the process. Meanwhile, the product has started to move organically … slowly … but in a way that has breached the immediate circles of friends, family and followers – and that’s a very exciting and hopeful indicator for odds of success. Feedback on the functionality, packaging, durability, and feel of the product has also been great.
So, on many levels, it’s a success and I’ve met and exceeded my preliminary batch of goals. I’ve now launched a real product, brought it to market, and learned an incredible amount through the process. Even if I never sold another MistDefender – I feel that the invested time and money was worth it for what I learned. From early on I looked at it and the cost as comparable to roughly a semester’s tuition at a decent University. And by that metric, it has been a success.
So from here? We’ll have to see how the next year progresses and where it goes. But, I cannot stress how grateful I am for the folks who have stepped in with feedback, input, suggestions, time, advice, and their own hard earned money to be part of the process. That in and of itself is such an incredible gift and one I’m very grateful for.
Travel: 80 Degrees North
I travelled less during my 35th year than I believe I have at any point in the last 13 years. That’s not to say I wasn’t still very lucky, and didn’t manage around two and a half weeks during a very brief green travel window in full compliance with all legal guidelines in late July/August where I was able to visit Svalbard on an extended sail and then road trip from Tromso, through Senja, to Nordkapp, and then back with my brother.
It was a magnificent trip and something different. In truth, it was also a bit reckless, even though it was a measured calculation and I’d taken my laptop in case of quarantine. At that point in time, a green corridor had been set up between the Nordics and case counts were extremely low. The Svalbard trip required a lot of care, but included a multi-day cruise running at 50% capacity on a small arctic vessel – this meant about 80 passengers. As the only American on the boat – especially since the US and other countries were all on lockdown – I definitely got some surprised (and concerned) looks before they heard my story, and that I was actually up from Denmark. Luckily, the trip was magnificent, provided fantastic opportunities to cross the famed 80 degrees north latitude line, and gave us a few days in pristine fjords all to ourselves in landscapes that had only seen one other decent sized ship in the previous 6 months.
Of course, while it all worked out fine, the sister ship which we actually passed on our final evening as we steamed back to Longyearbyen, would end up making global headlines when passengers and crew ended up coming down with COVID. Sadly, despite the extensive precautions and care the crew were taking, it likely was somewhat inevitable and after the quick test completed, all sailings were again paused.
From there it was on to Tromso where I met David and we rented a car. Then keeping to ourselves, and nature, we carefully made our way up to Nordkapp – Europe’s most northern point – before winding back down to Alta where he flew home, and then Senja and Tromso where I met a friend who was from the region and then headed home. On a wild hair, and inspired by the early days of the pandemic, I’d rigged up a traveling fishing rod and brought it with me. One of the upsides of lockdown youtubing was binging on a series of foraging and outdoors channels which had me inspired to reconnect with earlier passions. This meant that while I took a decent number of photos, we spent a lot of the time just driving back roads and nature, enjoying the endless arctic days and extremely long sunset/sunrises and doing a bunch of fishing. The shore fishing was unlike anything I’ve experienced, and we’d regularly land 50cm + cod and pollock which also made for a number of spectacular seaside meals made from fresh fish caught, filleted, and cooked within 100 feet. The experience was magnificent and the weather was spectacular throughout – scarily so, given that both while in Svalbard and heading to Nordkapp temperatures were near t-shirt weather and warmer than Copenhagen.
At one point, another highlight involved David and I accidentally climbing the wrong mountain. Or, to be more precise, to the saddle overlooking a spectacular drop and fjord, on the wrong side of a dramatic dragon-tooth like spire. We had made the hour and a half long hike up to the top, scrambling over slick mud-covered scree and sheer largely untamed paths. Only to reach the top, check the map, look at the photos for the spot we were looking at, pull up our cells, reference Google Maps, and then…have a good laugh when we realized the path we took was the wrong one from the wrong end of the village.
More broadly though the trip was definitely a deeply essential one. While business recovered quickly, my employer reacted to the early stages of lockdown by proactively instituting a 20% furlough and salary reduction for 3 months. We didn’t qualify for any government aid, but business quickly rebounded, and by late July, as the furlough wrapped up, it was clear it had been the right choice, and some degree of stability was returning. Still, the uncertainty of being a foreigner, with my visa and so much of my life tied to my job and right to work, was no small stressor. More than that, we were also in the final stages of prepping to launch the single biggest product launch in the company’s history and the marketing and go-to-market component of that was made even more essential by chaos in the market. We’d also picked up a new CEO in April – and that meant things were extra tight and stressful as we adjusted to his new style, proved ourselves, and learned what his vision was. The launch eventually took place in September, and was a fantastic success. But, the combined pressures and stress, in retrospect, took me quite close to burnout and crashing. I knew I was starting to get close to running on fumes before the trip, but it wasn’t until I realized afterwards that I hadn’t even had the energy or bandwidth to do much photography – that I realized just how run down I was. Instead I had barely had the energy to fish and to just slow down and tune into nature, the meditative zen of sailing the fjords, and driving the backroads in silence. All of this served as a powerful mental high-water mark to keep in mind for the future as I focus on maintaining my own healthy balance and equilibrium.
Travel: Stalled Momentum
Travel is always something I find deeply rewarding, but I also find it quite challenging in the leadup to each trip. I’ve talked previously about how my methodical and logical way of thinking brings with it a certain degree of anxiety and a tendency to overly dwell on what-ifs. My trips are usually fairly spur of the moment, and not terribly well planned out. At times, I actually do shockingly little research. But, the big picture anxieties are there and where a trip to Italy no longer gives me any lost sleep, the thought of renting a car there terrifies me. Over the years there have been a few major breakthrough moments where instead of incremental advances in comfort and “braveness”, things jump forward. A major one was my first solo trip to Europe for 3 months after my Bachelors degree. Another was the move to DK. Yet another, the family trip to visit my brother in Zambia. And then a major one which kicked off years of travel and exploration when I finally cracked into Southeast Asia in 2015.
In many ways 2019 was very much another of these breakthrough years. It picked up momentum when I cracked the Caucasus region, renting a car, and cutting in toward Svaneti and then went into overdrive a few months later with the solo trip to China, Thailand and Oman.
I returned empowered, curious, and confident enough that I was ready to book additional solo trips, with an eye to a whole host of different destinations. But, of course, just as I started to feel that breakthrough and flex that confidence while getting ready to act on new insights into how much more accessible these areas were due to technology and timing – the world slammed shut.
Now, I find myself torn. I’m desperately hungry for the next major trip and chance to explore. I did manage the summer trip, and with it, new experiences and growth. But, I’ve also now lost much of the momentum and boldness that came from 2019. For me, bold and independent travel is a bit like a muscle. It’s something you have to train, you have to grow, and you have to maintain. It has definitely atrophied in the past year. And, given it’ll be months – maybe even nearly another full year – before I’m able to flex it again, I can feel the impact of that stalled momentum. The return of anxiety, the desire for company as a safety net – you name it.
It’s an interesting challenge for myself over the year to come. Of course, much is out of my hands. Even once I’m able to get vaccinated, it’ll be far from a ticket for unfettered travel and adventures. But, let’s see. The past year has given me ample time to peruse google maps in search of new places to photograph, new cultures to explore, and thanks to youtube – so so many new foods to try.
It’s an interesting reflection of what I suspect will be a challenge for many of us, in many areas of our lives. Pushing ourselves to rebuild and recapture momentum. Beyond that, also preparing ourselves for how we can get a jump start and be prepared as those opportunities come to life.
Photography Competitions – Checking In
One of my goals last year was to submit more photography to competitions. I’ve come to take the competitions themselves with a grain of salt, as they are quite often profoundly subjective and often feature images that are excessively edited while claiming not to be, or which misrepresent the context or subject matter by using models or heavily designed setups. In other instances the competition is often more about pandering to the judge or batch of judges than any more broad neutral take. In some others you see really weird stuff like unintentionally out of focus shots that beat out tens of thousands of other photos.
Having said all that, they’re still fun, and it’s a fantastic challenge and opportunity to put work out there and see how it lands. I drift back and forth as to whether I think the complexities and sporadic flaws of competitions actually makes them more dynamic and challenging, or just more frustrating. Either way, I shelled out the entry fees and submitted to a number over the course of the year and the results have been fun!
By default, I take a somewhat less common approach to my travel and landscape photography when compared to many digital photographers. I’ll crop, I’ll doge/burn, and enhance colors or sharpness, but I never add or remove elements that were in the shot. Bird in an inconvenient place or piece of trash? It has to stay. Basic cleanup is widely accepted and practiced by the vast majority of landscape and travel photographers – removing bushes on a desert landscape, removing trash or a sign post – that sort of thing. Others are also increasingly introducing composites that stitch together photos taken at different times of day, or different days – such as swapping in clouds or blending exposures to create more dynamic waterfall textures. While yet others will do focus stacking – the only other variation that I’m inclined to experiment with. In these focus stacked shots you take 3-4 photos back to back at different distances, and then combine that into a final photo so front to back is in pin-sharp focus.
So, how’d it go? Surprisingly well – with relatively high near-hit rate though I didn’t crack the final top 3 or win but did secure 6 honorable mentions and a pre-final placement in the Big Picture Competition.
- Photo-is-Light World Photography Contest 2020: Top 10 People Category
- Independent Photographer: Black and White Award 2020 Editor’s Pick
- Monochrome Photography Awards 2020: International Black & White Photography contest: Honorable Mention, Landscapes Category
- Tokyo International Foto Awards 2020: Honorable Mention, Nature-Seasons (Non-Professional)
- World Photographic Cup 2020: Danish Landscape and Wildlife Submission (1 of 3)
- ViewSonic ColorPro Award Top 100, Theme: Kindness
It’s a fun challenge and one I’ll continue to play with. One of the things I like the most about the results is the breadth and range. Some of my placements were color, some were black and white. Others were of landscapes, while one was even a portrait. I love playing with the range, and not locking myself into any specific style, genre, or focus area even if it means that it’s harder to progress and goes against the conventional wisdom for building a portfolio.
Embracing the Weather – Whatever it May Be
There’s one universal constant in conversation. As much as it’s a silly adage and observation, there’s a lot of truth to it. But, the part we often neglect, is that the weather is also a giant barrier and crutch most of us use to limit ourselves.
While the English are probably most famous for mocking their dreary, soggy, and lackluster weather – Copenhagen is never far behind. In may way’s it’s the cooled and half-congealed porridge of climates, stuck half between being wet, half between being frozen with an excessive amount of gray sogginess. I’ve written previously about discovering the absolute magic and joy of a truly sunny day and the euphoric – almost intoxicating experience of suddenly emerging from the dreary cold of gray dark winters into the first bright days of spring.
But, a mixture of nearly 10 years in Denmark, the pandemic and my focus on landscape and travel photography in recent years has taught me something important. Embrace the weather. Even if it’s not the ideal weather for your region. We often look to the weather and use it as a justification to avoid changing or disrupting our routine. It’s too hot. Too cold. Too wet. Too windy. Too sunny. Too humid. You name it.
There’s another old slang proverb that goes to the effect of – there’s no such thing as bad weather, there’s just being dressed for the wrong weather. While there are ample occasions where it’s genuinely not worth the effort or hassle, I increasingly find that some of the most peaceful, relaxing, enjoyable, and beautiful moments actually occur when the weather is “wrong”.
In recent years I’ve started walking much more. In fact, in March I was notified of an interesting inversion: I walked 181 KM (48 hours), biked 1KM, and only drove or took the bus 26km (1 hr) during the entire month. I use the time as mental refresher and divider between work and my evenings. I also use it to listen to podcasts, join clubhouse chats, facetime loved ones, or to just wander in silence. My lifestyle is designed in part to facilitate this. I can walk to work (when going into the office), and have a beautiful series of lakes nearby I now try and walk every day. Yet, there’s always something like this nearby. When I lived in Scottsdale, there were canals and parks nearby. When I lived in Tempe there was campus, Tempe town lake and places to eat. In Prescott, the residential neighborhood on the hill with wildlife at dusk, and a nearby national park. A lot of times I pair it with grabbing food – usually takeout – which I then find a spot to enjoy. Does it get weird looks at times? You bet. But at the end of the day it ends up being a nice added reason to slow down, relax, and find a spot to settle in and relax for a bit.
A prime example was earlier today. With spotty sunny/cloudy spring weather after work I layered up in a heavy jacket and then made my way down to wander around the lakes. As I rounded the first, I was met by a blast of cold wind and the view of a far off storm cloud that took on a mushroom shape with whispy curtains of rain obscuring the ground. Then as I turned, the blue skies were rapidly giving way to roiling multi-layer storm clouds and brilliant light. Instead of hurrying home I kept an eye on the clouds and continued my walk as the light started to really pop – even as a few lone rain drops started to fall and then faded turning into a sporadic slushy hail. From there, instead of wandering home I paused to watch the light change, then changed my dinner plans – walked the KM to a nearby burger king, grabbed a meal to go, then headed to the local park as the hail picked up a bit. Content in my jacket an unperturbed I settled onto a park bench as others went rushing past, and enjoyed my meal – with just a stalwart hungry seagull to keep me company. From there, I waited a bit more for the light to finish popping and then took in the incredible radiant sunset glow that you only get with late high latitude Nordic light, paired with direct sunlight and a high level of moisture in the air.
That light, the smell in the air, the calm, the sense of being centered and control in a situation that otherwise should be the exact opposite – all of it, was only because I’ve come to accept and embrace the weather in all its forms and moods.
Hello 36, Let’s See What Adventures Await!
Somehow 36 feels much more adult and mature than 35 did. There’s a heaviness to it – a subtle hint of implied maturity and a gentle nudge towards less transience and more strategic planning for the future. That’s not to say it’s unpleasant – if anything it’s slightly bittersweet but exhilarating. Of course, I know it’s also entirely subjective – as so many of the undertakings and projects I’m looking at for 36 are things I could have just as easily done at 23, 27, or 30.
These times also highlight what an odd experience it is to be a millennial. To weather each new wave of challenges and experiences and to sit and watch as the melting plot of generations around us go through their own series of reactions and experiences. To be financially secure and stable while coming from a generation that has been broadly devastated by recessions, mass career disruptions, and a grand period of technological innovation and disruption puts everything in a curious light. Then layer on the pandemic and set that to the backdrop of the whiplash cultural evolution slowly unfolding makes for interesting introspection.
Of course, I’m also reminded that every generation has some similar series of events. If it wasn’t the civil rights movement, it was the insane inflation of the 80s. If it wasn’t the invention of the internet and social web, it was the mass commercialization of budget air travel.
At the end of the day I’m broadly positive about the future. About the direction we’re slowly ambling – a few steps forward, a few steps back. Even a few steps sideways seemingly just for shits and giggles. And so, even with the pandemic still raging – I’m hopeful about what’s to come and the course we’re on.
Let’s see what 36 brings. The only thing for certain seems to be that it will be anything but boring.