One of the things I’ve been working on in this season is trying hard to avoid my natural inclinations in this regard, especially when it comes to politics.

I first got the idea for today’s topic several days ago. But after yesterday’s killing of Alex Jeffrey Pretti by federal agents in Minneapolis, I wasn’t sure I could stick with what I had originally wanted to write about. There was and is a lot of felt pain by myself and others that’s still raw.

But I ultimately decided yesterday’s events require me to speak up all the more. Forces are at work that are tearing away the fabric of our society and our innate ability to see the humanity in others. You already know the list: algorithmic filter bubbles, partisan news, a media economy where outrage drives profits and nuance doesn’t.

Today’s piece is a call to find the humanity in “the other.” This American experiment won’t last if we give in to the forces that desire to keep us divided.

Permission to Be Complicated

Two of my friends, Scott Burns and Zvi Band, posted things on Facebook this week that I think need to be shared more broadly. Both are making a similar point: you can hold your values and still call out what’s wrong.

Zvi wrote:

Scott wrote:

What strikes me about both posts is that they’re giving people permission to be complicated. You don’t have to pick a team and defend everything that team does.

I want to offer the same permission from the other direction. I’m a centrist who nearly always votes for the left side of the ticket. And yet, as an entrepreneur at heart, I couldn’t disagree more with the most leftist policies that paint every aspect of capitalism as bad.

I think some of the “purity tests” on the left are a big reason Democrats lose elections. Continually shaming people for using the wrong combination of words, or for not agreeing on one position, isn’t a winning strategy. Not recognizing good faith efforts from allies can poison the well toward progress.

Your identity isn’t your political party. You’re allowed to be a whole person with nuanced views. Two things can be true at once.

This Week Has Been Hard

It’s easy to lose hope in the midst of Alex Jeffrey Pretti being killed in the streets by federal agents. It’s easy to lose hope seeing 5-year-old Liam Conejo Ramos seemingly used as bait and taken into custody and shipped to Texas. It’s easy to let your heart fill with disdain and let the accusations start flying.

If you’re angry right now, that anger is legitimate. If you’re grieving, that grief is warranted. I’m not here to tell you to calm down or move on.

And yet. We still have to figure out how to live together. We still have neighbors, coworkers, and family members who see things differently. The question isn’t whether to feel the weight of this moment. It’s whether we let it permanently sever the relationships that make community possible.

When we respond to injustice with contempt for everyone who doesn’t immediately see it our way, we lose potential allies along the way. People who might be persuadable get pushed back into their corners when they feel attacked rather than invited. The cause suffers when the tent shrinks.

How We Live Indivisibly

There’s ancient wisdom that says we should be “quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger.” I’ve been trying to take that seriously.

I have friends and family who disagree with me politically. On candidates. On specific issues. I’m not perfect at this. I still feel my Enneagram 8 instincts kick in, wanting to prove I’m right. But I’m making an effort because I know many of these people are genuinely kindhearted. They want to do the right thing. They’re not cartoon villains. And I’m not willing to flippantly throw aside those relationships.

So here’s what I’m trying to practice: not talking back immediately, but actually listening before formulating my response. Not being dismissive of the first thing I hear, because the opening statement might not represent someone’s full view.

Acknowledging good faith efforts matters. I saw someone post screenshots of their texts with their mom this week. His mom had proactively reached out, heartbroken, saying she was praying for him and for Minneapolis. The son’s response was immediate: “I don’t need your prayers,” followed by a list of calls to action. I understand the impulse. But I wonder what would have happened if the conversation had started with “thank you for thinking of me” and then, later, “would you also consider calling your representative?”

Avoid purity tests. Not everyone who disagrees on one issue is your enemy on all issues. Have real conversations, in person or on the phone. Use text only if you can avoid an accusatory tone. Don’t have your most important conversations on social media. The person on the other side becomes an avatar instead of a neighbor.

Avoid inflammatory language. Read the room. Don’t choose this particular week to compare your conservative hero to MLK, Jr. with your progressive friend. Avoid using words like “on both sides” in response.

Start from shared humanity, not opposing positions. Seek common sense solutions together. Most people want safety for their families, opportunity, and to be treated with dignity. Start there.

Of course, there are trolls online and there may be people in your life truly operating in bad faith. Don’t waste your energy on those situations.

What I’m Trying to Unlearn

“2016 Aaron” would have moved pretty quickly to tell you why you voted wrong and blamed you for why we are where we are. I was righteous. I was certain. I was insufferable.

Today, I try harder to seek awareness, understanding, and alignment on individual positions rather than accusatorially focusing on the past. I don’t always succeed. But I’m trying.

I’m not asking you to abandon your convictions. I’m not asking you to stop calling out injustice. I’m certainly not asking you to pretend everything is fine when it isn’t. I’m asking you to consider:

How can you seek to see the humanity in “the other” today, whether “the other” is the protestor, the immigrant, or that friend or family member who votes differently than you do?

What positions of “orthodoxy” are held by your political team that might need to be revisited?

How can you approach those with differing views with a posture of listening instead of an accusatory, I’m-right kind of tone?

How can you step away from your own filter bubbles and find additional perspectives?

One nation. Indivisible.

That’s what we say. I’d like to believe we still mean it.

So when I watch what’s been unfolding over the past few weeks, it’s not abstract to me. Renee Good was killed 3 miles from my home. Our local neighborhood high school, Roosevelt High, was surrounded and ambushed by ICE agents at the end of a school day. I see the fear in the faces of parents. I hear about directly impacted individuals in conversations at church.

This is happening in my city. And it’s happening in the midst of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, which feels like it should mean something.

Here’s the thing that’s been nagging at me for a while: In 1966, two-thirds of Americans had an unfavorable opinion of Martin Luther King, Jr. By the time he was assassinated in 1968, a Harris Poll found his disapproval rating had climbed to 75 percent. Nearly a third of Americans said he brought his death upon himself.

Today, his approval rating sits at 94 percent. We name schools after him. Many take a day off work in his honor. Politicians across the spectrum invoke his words to justify their positions.

This transformation should unsettle us.

It’s easy to honor a prophet once he’s dead and safely confined to history. It’s much harder to recognize one in your own time, especially when his message disrupts your comfort, challenges your assumptions, or asks something of you.

The Americans who despised King in 1966 weren’t monsters. Many were churchgoers. Many believed in law and order. Many thought King was moving too fast, too recklessly, too disruptively. Many agreed with his goals but objected to his methods.

They were, in King’s words, “white moderates.” And he considered them a greater obstacle to justice than the Ku Klux Klan.

So here’s the question I can’t escape this week: If you’re certain you would have stood with King in 1963, what does that certainty require of you in 2026?

The Irrelevant Social Club

King’s most searing critique wasn’t aimed at avowed racists. It was aimed at the church.

In April 1963, eight white Birmingham clergymen (Baptists, Methodists, a Presbyterian, a Rabbi) published an open letter urging King to slow down. They called his demonstrations “unwise and untimely.” They urged patience. They praised the local police for maintaining order.

King’s response, written on scraps of paper smuggled into his jail cell, became one of the most important documents in American history. In his “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” he wrote:

“I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to ‘order’ than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: ‘I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action’; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom.”

King reserved particular disappointment for the white church. He had hoped, he wrote, that white ministers would be among his strongest allies. Instead, some had been outright opponents. Others had remained silent behind “the anesthetizing security of stained-glass windows.”

He warned that if the church did not reclaim its prophetic voice, it would “be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century.”

I think about that warning often. Especially this week.

Two Things Can Be True

I want to be careful here, because I think this is where people stop listening to each other.

Two things can be true at once.

Violent criminals should face consequences. That’s not the debate. And some of the people detained in recent operations are genuinely dangerous.

At the same time, what’s happening in Minneapolis doesn’t seem to be primarily about public safety.

When reporters at MPR News examined the 13 people on DHS’s January 10 list of “dangerous criminals arrested in Minnesota,” they found that most had been transferred to ICE custody before Operation Metro Surge even began. Some transfers dated back to the Obama and Bush administrations. Five were simply picked up from Minnesota state prisons months earlier through routine coordination.

The Minnesota Department of Corrections called DHS’s numbers “categorically false,” noting that the state has always cooperated with ICE on detainers. “Public safety depends on facts, not fear,” a spokesperson said. “When federal agencies make claims that are demonstrably false, it undermines trust.”

According to DHS’s own data reported by CBS News, roughly 47 percent of ICE detainees have criminal charges or convictions. The rest are classified as “immigration violators,” held solely for civil violations, not crimes. And nationally, over a third of all ICE arrests in the past year have been people with no criminal record at all.

Meanwhile, multiple news sources (including CBS and Fox) have documented multiple instances of U.S. citizens being detained and physically harmed by ICE agents. In one case, two young Hispanic men working at a Target in Richfield were tackled to the ground while pleading “We’re U.S. citizens” and “We work here.” A state representative confirmed both were Americans.

Other cases cite a variety of detainments for individuals with protected legal status (e.g., green card or refugee) being detained. Reportedly, their documentation is ignored, no access is allowed to legal representation / due process, and they are shipped to Texas before their families know where they are.

Even a white real estate agent who is a U.S. Citizen was detained in the affluent neighborhood of Woodbury simply because he had the audacity to film the movements of ICE agents driving around his cul-de-sac. His wife had to search long and hard to figure out where he had been taken to.

In another case documented by the ACLU, a U.S. citizen named Hussen was walking to lunch when masked ICE agents stopped him. He repeated “I’m a citizen” over and over, but agents refused to look at his ID. They shackled him, took his fingerprints, and only released him after he showed a photo of his passport. “At no time did any officer ask me whether I was a citizen,” Hussen said.

These aren’t isolated incidents. They’re a pattern.

The Boy with the Passport Necklace

Two moments from a firsthand account by a Minneapolis resident have stayed with me.

A pastor (peacefully protesting, as King himself did) was pepper-sprayed and detained by ICE agents. When they released him because he’s a citizen, an agent told him: “You’re white anyway. You wouldn’t be any fun.”

In another account, a youth group leader describes a student, a Black immigrant who is a U.S. citizen with a passport, who now wears his passport around his neck everywhere he goes. His mother joked it was “like a trendy necklace,” but the heartbreak in her eyes told a different story.

These aren’t stories about violent criminals being brought to justice. They’re stories about what happens when enforcement becomes, in the agent’s own words, about “fun.”

King wrote in Birmingham about explaining to his six-year-old daughter why she couldn’t go to the public amusement park. The psychological wound of being told you don’t belong in your own country. That boy with his passport necklace is a 2026 version of a similar wound.

The Violence of the Spirit

King’s nonviolence is often sanitized into a kind of passive gentleness. This misunderstands him completely.

“Nonviolent resistance is not a method for cowards,” he wrote. “It does resist.”

But King’s nonviolence extended beyond refusing to throw punches. It required refusing to hate, what he called avoiding “internal violence of spirit.” The nonviolent resister, he wrote, “not only refuses to shoot his opponent but also refuses to hate him.”

This is where King’s teaching cuts in multiple directions at once.

At the center of King’s philosophy was agape, the Greek word for unconditional, redemptive love. Not sentimentality. Not affection. A principled commitment to recognizing the humanity of others, even those who oppose you.

“Let no man pull you so low as to hate him,” King said.

In a sermon that still stops me cold, he said:

“Do to us what you will, and we will still love you... Bomb our homes and threaten our children, and we will still love you. But be assured that we will wear you down by our capacity to suffer. And one day we will win our freedom, but we will not only win freedom for ourselves. We will so appeal to your heart and your conscience that we will win you in the process.”

This is not weakness. It is the hardest thing King ever asked of anyone.

It means those who resist injustice must resist the temptation to dehumanize the agents carrying it out. And it means those watching from the sidelines cannot dehumanize the immigrants caught in the crossfire.

If you cannot see the humanity in both a federal agent and in an undocumented mother hiding in a closet, you have not yet grasped what King was asking of us.

What King Would Ask

If King were writing a letter from Minneapolis today, I believe he would pose questions. Not to conservatives or progressives specifically, but to all of us.

Would you have stood with me in 1963? Most Americans today say yes. But most Americans in 1963 said no. If you believe you would have been in the righteous minority then, what evidence exists in your life today? Whom are you standing with now, when it’s costly and unpopular?

Do you love order more than justice? King’s sharpest words were for those who agreed with his goals but not his methods, who preferred “a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice.” If you find yourself more troubled by protest disruptions than by the injustice being protested, ask yourself why.

Is your church a prophetic voice or an irrelevant social club? This cuts across the political spectrum. Churches that speak boldly on social media but won’t look after their neighbors. Churches that preach personal morality but remain silent when federal agents terrorize their communities. King warned that the church risked irrelevance. In many cases, that risk has become reality.

When the moment demanded something of you, did you show up? King built coalitions that included latecomers. He welcomed people from a broad coalition who arrived late to the cause.

King’s coalition was messy. The March on Washington was organized by Bayard Rustin, a gay man some members wanted to exclude. One of their white allies, Walter Reuther, had been asked by the Kennedy White House to infiltrate the march and moderate its message. The civil rights leaders knew this. They included him anyway. When disagreements threatened to tear them apart, the elder A. Philip Randolph would remind them: “Brothers, let’s stay together.” It’s not too late to stand together now.

We need a broad coalition of individuals from all walks of life (conservative, progressive, atheist, Christian, etc.) to speak against the darkness that’s happening right now. It’s not too late to show up. As a Minneapolis resident, I ask you to show up.

Where Do We Go From Here?

In Minneapolis, that question is being answered in real time.

It’s being answered by churches distributing thousands of boxes of food to families in hiding. By pastors planting memorial signs in the snow where neighbors were taken. By parents volunteering for shifts of “ICE watch duty” at schools. By youth group kids asking their leaders, “Isn’t the government supposed to be protecting us, not threatening us?”

It’s also being answered by silence. By those who avert their eyes. By those who say they oppose cruelty but won’t risk anything to stop it. By the ones King called “people of good will” whose “shallow understanding” is “more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will.”

King believed the arc of the moral universe is long, but that it bends toward justice. What he didn’t say (but lived) is that the arc doesn’t bend itself. It bends because people bend it. Because they show up when it costs them something. Because they choose justice over order, love over hate, and courage over comfort.

Today we celebrate a man that very few celebrated when he was alive. We honor a prophet many of us probably would have rejected.

The question isn’t whether we would have stood with King in 1963.

The question is whether we’ll stand with our neighbors in 2026.

If you feel grief or anger over what’s happening, make your voice heard, call your representatives (5calls.org) and vote. If you’re a person of faith, pray for Minneapolis: for wisdom, love, truth, justice, and solidarity with neighbors in the way of Jesus.

And if you don’t want this to become the story of your city, speak now. Because if you wait until it arrives in your town, it is already too late.

I especially want to acknowledge a recent sermon I heard from Minister Amber Z. Jones entitled “From Mercy to Movement” for influencing the ideas expressed in the post. Her reminder that Dr. King’s call to nonviolence included nonviolence of spirit was instrumental, instructive, and impactful to me.

I’ve cycled through three postures over the last decade: enraged, numb, and now – I hope – engaged.

A common lament I’ve had over the last ten years has been something to the effect of “This isn’t normal. We’re all seeing this, right?!?”

In 2015-2017, I would take to social media with righteous anger, frustrated by the affairs of the world, somehow hoping I could break through the noise and make a difference.

Late last year, I made a conscious effort to adopt a different posture. From afar, it may have looked a lot like indifference. Instead, I saw it as simply embracing the belief that there’s not a whole lot I can change on a macro level, so maybe I should try not to live in a constant state of rage and anger about it.

That stance worked for me for much of 2025. I thought I was embracing the gist of the Serenity Prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Numbness helped me survive the noise, but it was never meant to be the final posture. More recently, it feels like that dam of numbness in me is breaking.

All year long, I’ve seen a constant barrage of “reasonable norms” get discarded.

And rather than concede that this is our new normal, I’ve been thinking through what it means to do something.

To truly embrace the Serenity Prayer requires not ignoring the middle section: “the courage to change the things I can”.

So what does “change the things I can” mean?

Engagement is choosing presence over outrage and action over commentary.

I don’t have the money, the platform, or the charisma to change anything on a national scale. But not being able to change everything does not absolve me from changing something. I simply need to direct my energy toward more productive pursuits. I can start by doing one small, proximate thing – acknowledging that I have agency.

As a recent example, when I learned that my Somali neighbors here in Minneapolis are being targeted by ICE, a potentially abstract debate about immigration suddenly became personal.

It made me want to find the smallest ways to start to lean in.

The Twin Cities are home to two of the biggest refugee settlement populations in the U.S. - both Somali and Hmong. Knowing that history, I suspected and was able to confirm that the overwhelming majority of Somalis in Minneapolis are here legally, and most have already obtained citizenship.

Nevertheless, based on what I’ve learned locally, ICE has detained multiple American citizens on our streets without probable cause while ignoring identification when offered.

Understandably, this has led to several Somali Americans being scared to leave their homes simply because of the color of their skin.

We were invited by some of our neighbors this week to band together to help buy groceries for several families who are afraid to leave their houses, and we quickly said yes.

Other Minnesotans have found more direct ways to protest ICE’s presence. They’re making their presence known at hotels ICE is staying at. They’re standing watch in their neighborhoods.

We’re having deep conversations with our kids at the dinner table about what’s right, what’s wrong, and ways we can make a difference.

Rather than sit here and complain to myself or a random person on the Internet that “it’s completely unacceptable to call any human being ‘garbage’ and how are we accepting this as normal?” I’m instead going to find the smallest things I have agency over and try to actually do something.

I certainly don’t have any of this figured out yet. I’m simply writing this to acknowledge that I want to migrate from “default numb” in 2025 to “default engaged” in 2026.

This is only a small sampling of what I hope engagement looks like for me in this next season. But I’m convinced it looks different for everyone. How are you rising above the chaos and finding ways to engage? Please reply to this email. I’m looking for inspiration!

Illustration generated by AI

Last week, I shared a reflection on gratitude following open-heart surgery. I mentioned in passing that I would save a separate post for how I ultimately chose the Ross procedure, why I traveled to New York to get it, and why the decision process took as long as it did.

Here’s that story of uncertainty, research, second-guessing, community advice, waiting, and finally arriving at a decision that brought me real peace.

tl;dr

Somehow this post ballooned to over 2,100 words. If that’s not your jam, just read this:

In March, I started researching, assuming I’d end up with a mechanical valve, only to feel increasingly unsettled by early consults, surgeon preferences, and the reality that even some great hospitals have non-trivial mortality stats. The Ross procedure was initially presented to me like a fringe, extreme-sports-adjacent option… until one unsolicited Facebook comment from a cardiac surgeon stopped me in my tracks and made me take it seriously. Once I dug in, I realized the Ross can be a “best of both worlds” outcome, by providing living tissue in the aortic position, no lifelong blood thinners, and great hemodynamics. However, the Ross is only suitable in the right hands at high-volume centers. The turning point was my consult with Dr. El-Hamamsy: within minutes, the emotional weight lifted - his confidence, warmth, and clarity (and his conviction about long-term outcomes) snapped the months of indecision, and I knew I was going to New York. Looking back, it feels obvious, but at the time it was a grind of research, waiting, fear disguised as pragmatism, and prayer for clarity. My biggest takeaway is still this: if you have time, don’t rush; get more opinions; look at the data; listen to lived experience; and don’t underestimate how much it matters to trust the hands you’re putting your life in.

When “Eventually” Becomes “Now”

In my last note, I mentioned that back in March, my cardiologist gently but clearly told me that 2025 needed to be the year for a valve replacement.

In an instant, the theoretical became real. It was time to start the process. Fortunately, my cardiologist framed it as I had enough time to find a surgeon I was comfortable with, and I was grateful for that.

Over the years, I’ve had several cardiologists. Early on, one of them planted a subtle seed that stayed with me for a long time. She said something along the lines of: technology keeps advancing every couple of years, and if you’re lucky, your options may improve by the time you actually need surgery.

The conventional wisdom was always straightforward: when the day comes, you’ll either get a mechanical valve or a tissue valve made from bovine (cow) or porcine (pig) material.

My First Surgical Consult

In April, I had my first formal surgical consult with a respected surgeon in Saint Paul. The meeting followed a predictable structure. He walked through the pros and cons of the two “standard” options: tissue valve vs. mechanical valve.

Tissue valves are rarely considered for younger people like me because they typically only last 10-15 years at best, and you end up having multiple open-heart surgeries.

So naturally, the conversation focused on mechanical valves. They’re designed to last a lifetime. But they come with a significant trade-off: lifelong anticoagulation (blood thinners). And that’s not trivial. It changes how you live, what activities you can do, what risks you carry, and even how minor injuries are handled.

Having done research going into the consult, I assumed I wanted the On-X mechanical valve. It had more recent clinical data suggesting that some patients could safely be on lower levels of anticoagulation, and that the category of drugs might evolve to something more easily managed over time.

What surprised me was how dismissive the surgeon seemed of it. He preferred another brand and was dismissive of the On-X’s benefits, even though most of what I found online suggested that many surgeons were increasingly gravitating toward it.

That disconnect stuck with me.

During the meeting, he briefly mentioned the Ross procedure as an option, but not one he performed. But it was framed almost as an extreme option. If I were into extreme sports and prone to cuts and bruises, I should consider the Ross so I could avoid blood thinners. But it felt like more of an academic footnote than a serious consideration.

I left assuming I’d be getting a mechanical valve, but I was unsettled about the surgeon. I wanted a second opinion from someone who preferred the On-X mechanical valve.

Statistics and Geography

Around that same time, I started looking into hospital performance data.

The best local hospitals had an operative mortality rate for aortic valve replacement of ~2%. Even world-renowned hospitals like Mayo Clinic had an operative mortality rate of ~1.4%. Cleveland Clinic brought that number down to ~0.8%.

I began thinking in probabilities. Even “minor” percentage differences mattered a lot to me when the stakes are this high.

Later I learned my personal surgical risk was lower. Maybe ~0.5% mortality, given my age and it being my first surgery. But once you’ve seen the bigger numbers, you can’t unsee them. And with that, an openness to traveling for surgery took root. I came to believe that choosing the right surgeon and center mattered more than geographic convenience.

Mayo, Mechanical Valves, and the Facebook Comment that Changed Everything

In early June, I went to Mayo Clinic to get a second opinion from another surgeon. This new surgeon preferred the On-X, and he was a comforting presence.

I had some international travel planned for early August, and this surgeon was highly sought after and had limited availability anyway. So, I went ahead and penciled in having surgery in September.

Given that we were in a waiting game and that I was still of a mind to research everything to the nth degree, I asked Kate to ask her physician friends on one of her Facebook groups if anyone had experience with that surgeon at Mayo.

She posted a question asking about the Mayo surgeon I was considering. The feedback was all generally positive. People spoke highly of him.

But one response stood out:

That comment stopped us both in our tracks.

Up until that moment, the Ross had felt like a fringe idea. Something that was mentioned briefly and then set aside. But hearing it raised unsolicited by a cardiac surgeon in a neutral setting made me take it seriously in a way I hadn’t before.

That comment became a pivot.

Learning What the Ross Really Is

Once I started digging into the Ross procedure in earnest, I quickly learned two things:

1. It is significantly more complex than a standard valve replacement.

2. In the right hands, it offers something close to a “best of both worlds” outcome.

In simple terms, the Ross uses your own pulmonary valve to replace your diseased aortic valve. Then a donor valve replaces the pulmonary valve.

The upside is remarkable: native living tissue in the aortic position, no lifelong blood thinners, excellent hemodynamics, and, if successful, long-term survival that can resemble that of the general population.

The downside is equally real: it is technically demanding, takes longer, and absolutely requires a surgeon who performs a high volume of procedures. Various research papers suggest the morbidity and mortality rates were meaningfully higher for the Ross unless you’re in the hands of a surgeon who has done at least 100 Ross procedures.

This is not a procedure you casually shop for.

As I researched, consistently I heard about the importance of going to a high-volume center if I pursued the Ross. This report from Google Gemini proved to be instrumental in my decision-making - A Clinical Intelligence Report on High-Volume Centers and Surgeons for the Ross Procedure in North America.

That report suggested there were only eight places I should consider getting a Ross procedure in North America. Fortunately, one of those was Mayo!

However, I immediately noted that one option stood head and shoulders above the others – Mount Sinai in New York City.

Trying to Keep All Options Alive

At this point, I decided to run two paths in parallel.

First, I went back to Mayo to figure out which surgeons actually performed the Ross procedure. I quickly confirmed that the surgeon I had been working with did not.

I asked for a referral to the Mayo surgeon who performs Ross operations. That got the wheels in motion, albeit slowly.

Second, I contacted Mount Sinai directly and requested a surgical consult with Dr. El-Hamamsy.

Then began what might have been the hardest non-medical part of the process: waiting.

It took nearly eight weeks from the date the Ross became a serious consideration to getting the surgical consult with the Mayo surgeon who performs Ross. And for a while, it felt like my request at Mount Sinai had disappeared into a black hole.

Those weeks were mentally taxing. I had enough information to know that the Ross might be my best long-term option, but not enough certainty to see if I was even a candidate for it or whether the surgeons at Mayo or Mount Sinai would agree to perform the procedure.

It felt like standing at a fork in the road, unable to see down either path.

Hope and Disappointment

Before the Mayo surgical consult, I had yet another echo, this time with a focus on my pulmonary valve. A comment made by the cardiologist doing the echo gave me a lot of hope that I would be a good fit for the Ross.

Now to wait for the surgical consult. A couple of days before the consult, the surgeon’s scheduler called me and basically implied that the surgeon wouldn’t be recommending the Ross, and asked if I really still wanted to drive down for the appointment.

I said I’d been waiting for this consult for a long time. We could switch to a virtual appointment, but I was keeping the appointment.

The consult that followed was confusing, at best. It was his belief that I might eventually end up on anticoagulants for other reasons, so, in his opinion, the Ross wouldn’t be that beneficial, and he wasn’t recommending it. But then he said, “Why don’t you and your wife talk it over, and if you want me to do it, give me a call, and we’ll get it scheduled?”

What the actual…?

The Call That Changed Everything

I still hadn’t heard back from Mount Sinai at this point, and by this time, I was less than 3 weeks out from my scheduled surgery with the first Mayo surgeon for a mechanical valve. I got to work earnestly to figure out how to get a yes-or-no from Mount Sinai. Thanks to some other Facebook groups that put me in touch with former patients of Dr. El-Hamamsy, I found some faster paths in.

There was still some nominal hope alive for getting the Ross at Mount Sinai, so I called Mayo to postpone my surgery.

I was able to electronically send over all my records to Mount Sinai. By some miracle, a virtual consult call with Dr. El-Hamamsy was scheduled for less than two weeks after the strange “no, but if you really want to, I’ll do it” I had received from the Mayo Ross surgeon.

In the days leading up to the consult with Dr. El-Hamamsy, my wife, my parents, and I were earnestly praying for clarity of direction. We asked that it be abundantly clear which path I should take.

Within minutes of hopping on that Zoom with Dr. El-Hamamsy, the entire emotional tenor of the decision changed.

Dr. El-Hamamsy spoke with the confidence that comes from being the world’s leading surgeon in this field. And yet he came off as deeply warm, empathetic, and caring.

We talked through my anatomy, age, activity level, and goals for the rest of my life.

In no uncertain terms, he told me why he believed the Ross procedure was the best option for me. He adamantly disagreed with the Mayo doctor’s reservations. He got a little fired up in that part of the conversation.

Most notably, he repeatedly emphasized that the life expectancy of Ross patients matched that of the general population.

He spoke with a conviction that only comes from deep experience.

When that call ended, something shifted in me. The indecision that had been swirling for months was gone.

I knew I was traveling to New York for surgery.

The biggest anxiety quickly shifted to “would my insurance try to deny this claim?” And fortunately, it was never an issue. I feel very fortunate.

Why I Ultimately Chose the Ross & Dr. El-Hamamsy

The prospect of a longer life expectancy and no need for anticoagulation drugs was quite compelling in its own right.

But the trust I felt in Dr. El-Hamamsy to perform the surgery after that consult was what tipped the scales. All uncertainty faded away, and quickly.

Although I was very driven by the research and the statistics along the way, it ultimately came down to confidence. I wanted the person operating on my heart to be someone who knows this procedure at an almost cellular level.

Finally, I felt peace about the decision.

Looking Back From the Other Side

Now that I’m on the other side of surgery, recovery, and reflection, the decision feels almost obvious in hindsight.

But at the time, it was anything but.

It was weeks of learning new medical vocabulary. Long conversations with Kate. Reading research that I was under-qualified to be reading. Waiting for calls. Managing probabilities. Wrestling with fear disguised as pragmatism.

I’m profoundly grateful for the physicians who guided me.

For the “random” physician in a Facebook group who spoke up at just the right moment when Kate asked. (Consider: A single Facebook comment from a kind stranger may have added a meaningful number of years to my life! I still can’t get over this.)

For a healthcare system that miraculously made this path possible.

For my parents, Kate, Brad, and various other friends and family who helped us make the logistics work to travel for surgery. And for having the resources to not worry about travel expenses.

For Dr. El-Hamamsy, who treated me not as a case, but as a person. This has quickly become one of my more cherished photos, taken 12 days after surgery at the post-op appointment…

To kick off a new season* of my Sunday newsletter, I want to start with something personal and meaningful.

Today’s note is part personal update and part reflection on gratitude – why this surgery stretched me, grounded me, and made this season’s thankfulness hit differently.

Two Sundays ago, I felt a strange mix of nervous energy and determination. I was preparing to step away from work for five weeks, making sure bills were handled, and tying up any loose ends – just in case the upcoming Wednesday didn’t go the way I hoped.

I’ve known since my late 20s that open-heart surgery was an inevitability for me. I was born with a congenital condition called a bicuspid aortic valve. Over time, that’s led to severe regurgitation. Basically, my heart was becoming more inefficient each day. If left untreated, heart failure would be inevitable.

My first cardiologist said she didn’t know if surgery would be in “2 years or 10”. I was blessed to wait a full 17 years. It certainly wasn’t top of my mind daily, but the overhang was always there - presenting itself in frustrating ways. I learned early after initial diagnosis that it was suddenly a near impossibility to get life insurance for any amount I would feel sufficient to cover my family.

The timing of surgery was always going to be based on symptoms or what my annual echocardiogram showed. This March, my new cardiologist said the echo suggested it was time to start preparing. She wasn’t pushing me into immediate action, but she made it clear that 2025 needed to be the year for valve replacement surgery.

I’ll save a post for another day on how I ultimately chose to get the Ross procedure instead of other options, why I traveled to New York to get it, and why it took me another 7 months before I was on the operating table.

Back to two Sundays ago. Some of my pre-surgery/pre-travel prep. was very focused and surgical in its own right. I handle all our bills and finances, and I was documenting everything I considered relevant in case surgery was unsuccessful. Some of it was anything but surgical. I wrote my kids letters in case I didn’t make it. That was a trip. People in my age cohort who undergo this procedure with this surgeon have a success rate of better than 99%. But that <1% chance was still discomforting. I wasn’t sure how much prep for the worst-case scenario was really too much or too little.

Over the next couple of days, I flew to New York and had my pre-op appointment. A flurry of other random things on Monday and Tuesday entered my mind as “must-dos” before undergoing surgery.

I went to the surgeon who does more Ross procedures than anyone in the world. I was really grateful to be informed that I would be his first procedure of the day and that I didn’t have to check in at the hospital until 7:30am for a 9:30am procedure.

Around 8:30am, I said goodbye to my wife, Kate, and my friend, Brad (who had traveled to join us for surgery). I was wheeled back to a holding area to prep for surgery. An hour later, I met my Doctor in person for the first time. He asked how I was doing, and I said, “I’m at peace”. For all the nervous energy I was feeling in the days leading up, I was telling the truth in that moment. I knew I was well prayed for and in the hands of the surgeon I believed to be the most capable in the world.

We quickly walked through contingency plans that we hadn’t fully walked through in the online consult: Plan A was a valve repair (unlikely but worth trying), Plan B was the Ross procedure (the intended route), and Plan C was a mechanical valve if neither option worked.

Five minutes later, they wheeled me back to the operating room. I looked around enough to get my bearings. Then, thanks to the wonderful anesthesiologists, I remember nothing from the next 10 hours or so.

I’m told that Kate received very little information on how things were going via text during the lengthy procedure. This was understandably quite unnerving for her, in spite of a forewarning that that might happen. Around 4:30pm, she received a call from the surgeon to let her know that Plan B was chosen and the Ross procedure was successful.

Somewhere around 7pm, while still half under the influence of anesthesia, a nurse started talking to me to let me know that: a) I was in the ICU; b) they were planning to take the breathing tube out; and, c) Kate and Brad were in the room. The nurse asked if I knew who they were. Lacking the ability to verbally communicate or even open my eyes, I made a heart symbol with my hands.

It was also around this time that I started pumping my fists and arms in celebration. The nurse had to tell me to stop so I wouldn’t hurt myself with all the various tubes in me. But as far as I was concerned, this was the first moment I was aware that I had made it and I was alive. It was time to celebrate!

I spent just under the next 24 hours in the ICU. I was nauseous the whole time. I had two fantastic nurses, and… a third nurse. Just for fun, the patient next door was an inmate guarded by two policemen.

They transferred me to the step-down unit around 5pm on Thursday. I really wasn’t sure I was ready to be out of the ICU, but I met all the criteria for step-down, and they really didn’t have room for me in the ICU. Somehow, I managed to take an extended nap for the next few hours, and my disposition immediately changed. I was feeling much better.

And then basically ever since Thursday, November 20, at 8pm, things have gotten a little better each day.

As of today… I’m 11 days post-surgery and 6 days out from being released from the hospital. While I still have some restrictions - eg, no lifting anything over 10 pounds, no running, and no being in the front seat of a car for several more weeks - in most other respects I’m really starting to feel “normal”. And, I’m frankly in a better mental state because I don’t have the overhang of an upcoming surgery in front of me.

It’s weird. For my Doctor and for all of the medical staff who supported, this was “just another Wednesday”. But for me, I hoped that Wednesday would be a defining midpoint, not the endpoint, of my life. Like a friend of mine says, “Minor surgery is what everyone else has.”

This whole experience has also given me a deeper empathy for anyone facing medical uncertainty. Even with a 99%+ success rate, the lead-up was emotionally heavy for Kate and me. And it made the outpouring of support this season feel even more meaningful. I’m grateful for so many things.

We were well supported and loved on by countless friends and family. Thanks to my friend Brad for traveling to New York to be with Kate and me the day before and after the surgery. Thanks to my parents for staying with and watching my kids for two weeks. I had an army of people praying for me from diverse backgrounds. Numerous people let Kate know they were supporting her in so many real and felt ways.

I’m grateful that insurance covered the procedure I sought with the surgeon and facility I wanted. I’m thankful we had the resources to cover travel and hotel costs that insurance wouldn’t cover, and that I was well enough to travel for surgery at the time I needed surgery. I’m grateful that every single one of my coworkers and superiors fully supported me in taking a full leave of absence to focus on recovery.

I’ve told a few people that I feel like this experience has unlocked a “new level” of gratitude for me.

This has deepened my sense that every day is a gift, and I’m hopeful that 2025 is much closer to my midpoint than my endpoint. If that’s the case, then there’s more I’m supposed to do. ‘To whom much is given, much is expected’ feels a little heavier now, in a good way.

Tomorrow I’m hoping for the all-clear to fly home. I can’t wait to see my kids.

As my faith has shifted through moments of deconstruction and reconstruction over the years, I’ve decided to create a private Substack to dive in deeper and explore and discuss the moments that have shaped that journey. It’ll be an opt-in space for honest reflection and conversation - not proselytizing. If you’d like to follow along, please fill out this brief form.

* I’m going to start thinking of times I write this newsletter as “seasons”. The only analogy I can give is comparing to podcast seasons. I don’t want to commit to weekly writing in perpetuity, but I do like revisiting the regularity of writing periodically.

In the following “episode”, I’ll talk through how I found out about and chose the Ross procedure for aortic valve replacement, and why I decided to travel for surgery.

Social share photo generated by AI

There was a period in my early childhood when I was thoroughly convinced I would be a pastor when I grew up.

As I got older, it became clear that that wasn’t for me. Software entrepreneurship was my calling. The ability to create something from nothing and find a unique way to serve a market brought me joy and excitement. And I don’t think I had the gift of preaching, anyway.

Nevertheless, I still felt compelled to lean in more and study. I dual-majored in Computer Science and Biblical and Theological Studies in college. My lame joke has always been that I only did it because there was so much overlap between the two.

Now, in my mid-40s, I occasionally get a little cognitive dissonance thinking about how I still worship the same God I did in my youth, and yet how I view God, religion, and the world seem remarkably different than when I was younger.

This morning, I was reflecting on the fact that three inflection points have substantially impacted my faith journey during my adult life. All came in the form of teachings from others.

For my own benefit, I’m going to start writing more on the topic of those inflection points in my faith journey. I understand that’s not for everyone, and that’s not why you subscribed to this newsletter.

In the coming weeks, I will set up a private Substack where I occasionally write about topics surrounding faith. It will allow me to write and reflect on these topics for only those who want to opt in. And, selfishly, I will be able to write without worry of having my thoughts immediately attached to my name through a Google index.

The goal of the new newsletter won’t be to proselytize or convert. Instead, I want the opportunity to think out loud, wrestle, and get feedback from others who may have wrestled with similar issues. I hope it can provide a forum to engage with others who want to discuss such matters.

If that interests you, let me know by filling out this brief form. I’d be honored if you want to follow along. No worries if it’s not your jam.

This Week’s Quick Hits

• Check out this video where Jeff Bezos shares his management style and philosophy. This tweet storm had a good write up of the core things shared. Favorite quote: “Anyone who doesn’t change their mind a lot is dramatically underestimating the complexity of the world we live in.”

• I listen to a lot of podcasts. Some day, I’ll write about how I got really close to buying an established podcast app. One of the biggest reasons I didn’t buy that app? I discovered a different app, Snipd, which basically had all the features I had wanted in a podcast app. It uses AI to help you take notes on what you’re learning. There is a free version, but to really make the most use of it, it costs ~$80/year. IMHO, it’s worth it for avid podcast listeners.

• This last February, a podcast episode hit me at just the right time: “This Must Be the Void.” In it, Rob Bell talks through navigating periods of lacking in motivation and creativity. For anyone going through such a season, I recommend taking a listen.

• There are so many new AI tools I could write about, since I haven’t posted in a while. If you haven’t seen them, check out Cursor (for coding) and Suno (for song generation). And although I’ve mentioned it before, I can’t say enough just how good Perplexity is at getting you solid answers to your questions, backed with citations.

Photo generated with OpenAI’s Dall-E Model

I have a quick favor to ask…

My son will be a sophomore in high school next year. He’s considering starting a business this summer to help people make the Wi-Fi in their homes faster and more reliable with a one-time equipment upgrade.

I suggested that one of the best first things he could do is solicit potential customer feedback.

Could you fill out his survey? It should take less than 5 minutes, and you’ll be entered into a $20 Amazon gift card drawing.

Big thanks to my friend Nate for helping to refine a prior idea we were considering to help us pivot to this one.

Last night, around 9:50 pm, I went to tell my son good night. I asked if he was going to get to bed soon, and he said he was thinking of staying up to try and see the aurora borealis (a/k/a the northern lights). I knew little about this besides seeing it mentioned in an extended family text thread earlier. I wished him luck and left his room.

As I walked back to my room, I had a sinking feeling... I knew that in the cities, there would likely be too much city light drowning out his ability to see anything cool. I pulled up my phone and asked Perplexity: “I live in Minneapolis. What is the closest place I can drive to that gives me the highest chance of seeing the Aurora tonight?” A few seconds later, it gave me four options, ranging from a 40-minute drive to a 4.5-hour one. I didn’t give it a second thought and mentioned my last-minute plan to Kate. She told me to drive safely.

I went back to my son with my newly hatched idea. He took a minute to think it over and then decided we should go.

Forty minutes later, we were in Fish Lake County Park in Harris, Minnesota. I was surprised to see how many other people were there.

At first, I wasn’t so sure. With a large crowd, there was light from all over: boats, houses, phones, and car headlights. It seemed like it was going to be a bust.

But little by little, the night sky got brighter.

We had heard that cameras might be better at picking up some of the nuances than we could see with the naked eye, so we started snapping many photos.

Things peaked at about 11:33 pm. It was my first time seeing the northern lights, and I was glad we went. My son was genuinely giddy that we got to see and experience them.

I tell this story not to suggest I’m a great dad or anything. Because let’s face it… I’m often not. Instead, it’s a small example of me attempting to adopt the mantra to “Embrace Whimsy” (credit to Bob Goff and Donald Miller for the phrase).

While it was such a small thing to stay up later and drive an hour and a half round trip to check out something my son wanted to see, I honestly don’t think I would’ve had the situational awareness for this just a few short years ago. I was living an overscheduled life, prioritizing work above most things, and I was probably taking things too seriously.

When your life is overscheduled and just outright stressful, it can feel extraneous to fit a fun “distraction” in. Embracing whimsy takes a certain amount of intentionality to give yourself the mental space and the free time to alter course at a moment’s notice.

But last night wasn’t a distraction at all. Spending that time with my son was the highlight of my week.

What do you need to work on this week to better embrace whimsy in your own life?

This Week’s Quick Hits

• I hinted at it above, but highly recommend checking out Perplexity. While ChatGPT is great for a lot, I find Perplexity to be a very helpful alternative to using Google to find the answer to something. It can digest dozens of current sources in a matter of seconds and serve up an answer complete with links to sources. Thanks to my friend Jim for turning me on to this a couple months ago.

• It’s been a while since you’ve heard from me via this newsletter. It’s been freeing to not approach this as a scheduled task, but rather something to enjoy when I have something to say. Thanks for staying subscribed.

Photos above by me

Anyone who knows me knows I pride myself on efficiency and getting things done. Apart from spending more time on my phone playing games than I should sometimes, I usually try to squeeze as much completed work out of every moment as possible.

Looking back at this past week, I had 37 calendar events involving other people. (That’s not including the events I put on my calendar to get tasks done.) Some events were <15 minutes, and one was 5 hours long. Most were Monday-Friday and were work-focused. But a couple events were things like meeting with the builders of our new house or going to my daughter’s hockey game on Saturday.

During the same week, I completed 38 activities on my to-do list.

Usually, on Sunday or Monday of every week, I open a fresh entry in my Apple Notes app and try to put the shortest list of “top priorities” for the week ahead. This is what I return to during the week to know if I’m making progress. I add lines as they come up and note things that are done so I can celebrate progress.

Before my current system, I tried many task/to-do apps and usually just gave up. The lists get too long and too overwhelming. With my new note-per-week system, I’m forced to re-orient each week on where I should spend my time.

And, while parts of the current system are working, others just aren’t.

I have 9 things on my to-do list that feel like pretty big priorities I didn’t get to this week. I have an additional 10 other things on my to-do list that accumulated over the week that may get lost as we go into next week.

More importantly, when I look at the 75 calendar events and completed to-dos for the last week, I see maybe a few – at best – that I’ll remember or care about three years from now.

A recent book I’ve been listening to is Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman. While the book may sound like it’s for Type A people to help them cram more time into their day, its focus is actually much the opposite – it’s more of a philosophical exploration of how to live meaningfully within the time we have.

One thing that really struck me while listening to the book was the suggestion to engage in simple tasks like washing the dishes with full presence and attention without the need to be doing or thinking about anything else. It hit home because I heard it listening to the audiobook at >1.5x playback speed while washing the dishes. With my extreme desire for efficiency, the idea that I could just wash the dishes without listening to a podcast, audiobook, or Netflix show seemed abnormal.

Burkeman highlighted the importance of being present and finding value in the here and now rather than always looking ahead to the next thing on our to-do list or trying to multitask. He suggests this approach can transform routine activities into moments of mindfulness, helping us to appreciate the richness of the present moment and counteract the constant striving for productivity that characterizes much of contemporary life.

I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to entirely turn “this” off. But I see the value.

The moments I show up, fully present, with my friends and family are the ones I most care about later.

Even in a work context, sometimes you just need to give your mind space and flexibility to breathe to let the best ideas come out. I had the idea for HomeSpotter’s most successful second product, Boost, while I was staring at a lake and not trying to jam a bunch of meetings or podcasts into the day.

I keep looking for small steps to change the over-efficiency narrative for myself. On a recent road trip, I spent a couple of hours just driving. I couldn’t quite hack it the whole time … I listened to something for other parts of the drive. But it was freeing to let my mind wander in those moments.

This week, I will add a section to my weekly notes app to-do list to celebrate what I decided not to do. We’ll see if it sticks.

This Week’s Quick Hits

• You may have noticed I took numerous weeks off from writing. I’m still trying to figure out where this newsletter sits on my priority stack of activities moving forward. It may need to move off my list for a season. On the other hand, one of my favorite podcasters seems to post a new episode whenever he feels like it and with no rhyme or reason. Maybe that’s where I need to land for now.

• I was well into the new year before I sketched out my annual Plus, Minus, Next list. I still find this process beneficial and way more conducive to change than the typical new years resolution thing. Kudos to Nate Kadlac and Anne-Laure Le Cunff on this.

Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters on Unsplash

“If you’re a Christian, then you believe that Jesus’ death was followed by resurrection – the crucifixion and the resurrection being the cornerstone of the Christian faith. But even if you’re not a believer, it is still valuable to study and learn from the life of Jesus.”

That was a quote from the most recent episode (#332) of one of my favorite podcasts – Founders, by David Senra. David releases episodes weekly, where he typically reads a single book about a famous founder or other impactful individual in business and then breaks down the learnings from his reading in shorter form on a podcast. In this episode, however, he breaks down the life of Jesus, based on his reading of Jesus: A Biography from a Believer by Paul Johnson.

Whether you believe Jesus is the Son of God or something else entirely, he is arguably the most impactful individual in human history, so it’s helpful to learn more about who he was.

Here are some of the key lessons about Jesus from the episode.

Jesus simplified all prior religious teaching, into just two commandments: 1) Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength; and, 2) Love your neighbor as yourself. He also used various parables, like the one of the Good Samaritan, to communicate that everyone is in fact your neighbor. “Your neighbors” isn’t meant to be an exclusive group.

Some of Jesus’ key maxims:

• Love your enemies.

• If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also.

• Judge not and you will not be judged.

• Forgive and you will be forgiven.

A summary of Jesus’s teaching in two words: Be kind.

“He disliked any kind of legalism or ponderous logic.”1

Paul Johnsons’s book has a chapter on “Jesus 10 New Commandments”2:

1. Each of us must develop a true personality. Each of us is unique. Develop your character.

2. Abide by universality. See the human race as a whole.

3. Give equal consideration to all.

4. Use love in all your human relationships, at all times, and in every situation.

5. Show mercy. “Jesus says that if you get the glorious chance to show mercy, do so without forethought or afterthought, without reason or logic, not expecting thanks or even repentance, not to accomplish something in the way of social or personal reform. Simply for its own sake.”

6. Balance. Keep your head even when others are losing theirs.

7. Cultivate an open mind. “Jesus’ life and death where he struggled against those whose minds were closed. He disliked bigotry in any form and spoke out against in constantly.”3

8. Pursue truth.

9. Judiciously use your power.

10. Show courage. “Jesus showed high courage with endurance of pain and persecution, a sustained heroism in the face of inequity and a dogged persistence in proclaiming the truth at all costs.”

In summary, even if you never intend to follow Jesus spiritually or religiously, the study of his life and his teachings can be of great benefit. I recommend David Senra’s podcast or Paul Johnson’s book as a potential entry point. Though Paul doesn’t hide the fact that he’s a believer, he approaches his book on the historical Jesus as a historian.

And if you’re curious, a few other Paul Johnson books were covered in other episodes of Founders:

• Churchill (Founders #225)

• Socrates: A Man for Our Times (Founders #252)

• Mozart: A Life (Founders #240)

Merry Christmas.

This Week’s Quick Hits

• Framing on our new house is moving quickly. They just started on the second floor!

• I think my favorite non-traditional Christmas song is Dave Matthews, “Christmas Song.” And on the more traditional side, my absolute favorite is Johnnyswim’s live rendition of “Hallelujah + O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.” That’s from a concert they did from their living room mid-COVID.

• I hope you get a chance to check out, sign off, and enjoy your time with your friends and family this holiday season.

Photo by Al Elmes on Unsplash

This week, I had a lot of disparate thoughts that I wasn’t quite ready to make a whole post out of. So, I’m taking a break from the norm and am just posting some bullets…

• Gratitude. In the spirit of giving thanks, did you know that when you feel gratitude, you can’t feel anger or sadness simultaneously? Here’s a fascinating thread, including some advice on counteracting the #1 relationship killer – contempt.

• New Home Build. Just in time to beat the freeze, our basement is dug, and footings are poured. With any luck, we hope to move in August 2024! While our architectural plans are locked in, there’s still time to mix things up on plumbing, heating, electrical, appliance selections, etc. Open call if you have any creative ideas – I’d love to hear them. Just hit reply to this email, and I'll get it!

• Hospitality & Decluttering. One of our family mantras is “Experiences over Objects.” And yet, we’ve made some significant purchases recently with our vacation property and new home build. It’s probably partially a justification, but the big selling point for me to proceed with both was a desire to extend hospitality to family, friends, and beyond – and, therefore, use them as tools to create memories. It’s been fun to invite others to vacation with us. And I’m looking forward to hosting dinners and guests more often at our new home. To facilitate that, my biggest goal in the move is decluttering and finding a strategy we can stick to for a tidy house. Other than reading The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo, what methods have worked for you in decluttering and sticking with it?

• OpenAI. Last weekend and early last week, I was way too caught up in the OpenAI board/CEO drama. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, congratulations. I’ll spare you my extensive pontifications on the whole matter. All I’ll say is that for a company that’s all about our AI future, how things played out with the board is quite the study of human nature and relationships. I’m sure it will be studied for years to come.

• Mid-Life Crisis Reading. Thanks to a recommendation from my friend Jesse, I’m currently listening to What Got You Here Won’t Get You There: How Successful People Become Even More Successful. I’m only ~35% way through it, but I am far enough to recommend it to others – especially anyone over 40. Like it or not, I’ve begun to accept that I’m decidedly middle-aged. My running joke post-acquisition has been that I’m trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Two years later, the joke has gotten old. Especially to me! The book gives a lot of good frameworks and strategies for thinking about your next stage of impact and how that will probably look a lot different than it did before – hence the title.

• Better Written Communication. Thanks to Michelle for re-posting this 1 minute guide to better-written communication.

• Development & AI. This weekend, I wanted to code something really small. For someone who “used to code,” it probably would’ve taken me 20 minutes to look up all the proper references and ensure I got everything right. Instead, I asked ChatGPT and had a working code in 1 minute. I’ve shared a similar story before; maybe you've heard others. But have you seen the one where the guy draws a breakout game using "make real" (demo + code), and it’s working within a minute? A lot of people are worried about job losses. Still, honestly, I think this will follow every industrial revolution that’s preceded… It may change the style of work many of us do, but increased productivity will mean increased opportunity for all.

• Robotic Coffee. I recently got a chance to experience a new fast coffee pickup experience from Octane Coffee. I love what they’re up to. They had a news story go viral a couple weeks back. Imagine never having to wait in a long drive-thru line again.

• Gift Guide. A podcast I listen to – All the Hacks – just published their 2023 Holiday Gift Guide. It had several interesting ideas, some of which I’m adding to my own list. :)

Photo by Element5 Digital on Unsplash

Those who aren’t active in the residential real estate industry may have missed some big news over the last few weeks. It will likely become a watershed moment that disrupts residential real estate transactions. I’ll talk more about what happened in a minute, but first, let me give some background on why I believe this is such a big deal.

HomeSpotter was never a disruptor. For various reasons, I chose a path where we would partner with the real estate industry as it existed. Our primary customers were (and still are) mid-to-large-sized real estate brokerages and franchisors and the multiple listing services (MLSs) that serviced them. Eventually, before we were acquired, we also started selling to real estate agents.

When I started raising money for HomeSpotter, potential investors often asked me: “Isn’t residential real estate just going to get disrupted? And if it does, what does that mean for you?”

As I became familiar with the industry, a few things seemed obvious. Eventual disruption of the industry was inevitable. And… at least up until 2018, I could confidently say that it seemed apparent that disruption was at least 5-10 years out. However, around 2020, my tune started to change. I could foresee the potential disruption within a 5-year time horizon.

I would explain to investors that there is a strange quirk in the residential real estate market. In a nutshell, sellers of properties pay both the seller’s and buyer’s agent commissions. In a somewhat typical case, a seller might pay their agent 6% to sell their house. Assuming a buyer uses their own agent to buy the house, the seller’s agent pays the cooperating agent a pre-agreed upon commission (e.g., this could be any number a seller’s agent chose for a given listing, but market norms were often +/- 2.7%). This is the primary business reason a multiple listing service exists. For seller’s agents to post listings with a stated buyer’s agent commission. Notably, this behavior only exists in the US and Canada and is also specific to residential real estate – commercial real estate works much differently.

This coupling of how buyer and seller agents are paid made real disruption difficult. Most listings are on the MLS, and any listing not on the MLS is at a competitive disadvantage. To post a listing on the MLS, a member agent was typically required to post a buyer’s agent commission. Listing agents knew they’d need to post a competitive commission with what the market was paying, or other agents may opt not to show their property. So a disruptor looking to reduce commissions for sellers would have to either make a compelling case about how they can earn a seller just as much money by not posting on the MLS or they would need to post on the MLS and absorb the market norm buyer’s agent commission. Similarly, since buyers never felt like they were paying their buyer’s agent, they had little incentive to choose a disruptor on the buy side.

This is why I have always advised people to get their own buyer’s agent when buying properties. The seller’s agent will collect the full commission from the seller (~6%) either way. It is, therefore, better to get an agent that fully represents your interests as a buyer than to go directly to the seller’s agent, who will never solely have your interests in mind.

So, why did my tune start to change around 2020? Two reasons.

First, I saw the startup Opendoor start to gain a modest amount of market traction. Opendoor provided a prime example of how a disruptive startup could decouple the otherwise tightly coupled real estate transaction. Opendoor allowed consumers to sell their houses without the hassle of many showings or the unknown timing of knowing when a buyer would arrive. Opendoor offered a price to buy a property, often within an hour of the request, and could close in as little as a week’s time. No agents were required for this. While this was a meaningful disruption on the sell side, it also alluded to a path for disrupting the buy side.

In some cases, Opendoor could sell its listings to buyers without involving a buyer’s agent. It had the option to decide when to use the MLS or not.

The second reason my tune started to change was that a series of class action lawsuits had begun to be filed in late 2019 – known simply as Moehrl v. NAR and Sitzer/Burnett. Both cases earned class-action status and made similar allegations. They allege that brokerages and the National Association of REALTORs (NAR) conspired to inflate commissions to sellers by requiring sellers to pay buyer’s agents commissions. I lacked the legal expertise to know where these cases would go on their own, but the fact that there were two and likely more lawsuits to come meant there were legal reasons on the horizon that there might be a forced decoupling of how buyers’ and sellers’ agents are paid.

Fast forward to October 31, 2023. Deliberations in the Sitzer/Burnett trial had just concluded. A jury took less than a couple hours to deliberate and find NAR and the brokerages guilty of conspiring to inflate commissions. It awarded damages of $1.78 billion (likely to be automatically trebled due to antitrust law).

Since then, additional copycat lawsuits (some with a much broader scope) have been filed. And the Moehrl lawsuit is still pending.

It’s still plausible the Sitzer/Burnett award could be reduced or that a different outcome could be reached on appeal. But the tides have shifted. A legal outcome that makes sellers paying buyers’ agents at least an optional thing seems increasingly inevitable.

So, what’s likely from here? It’s hard to say as much is still up in the air, so I hesitate to pontificate too much.

But the residential real estate market in the US may look more like it does internationally. In most international transactions, commissions are closer to ~3% than ~6%. Typically, there is only one agent involved – the listing agent.

Fewer listings may be posted on MLSs, as the primary motivating factor for a listing agent is to advertise to buyer’s agents what they’ll pay them to bring a buyer.

If inventory on MLSs decreases, the search process may eventually become more complicated for consumers. When we were looking for properties in Puerto Rico, I mentioned that you had to triangulate from at least three different sources to find listings. That feels increasingly inevitable in the US. You might envision a future state where some listings never go to the MLS (and therefore don’t make it to many websites that rely on the MLSs). Those listings are on a limited number of other sites. This will, in turn, likely increase the power of a few small players like Zillow and others. Right now, no one pays to list a property on Zillow. However, paid listings on sites are the norm in countries like Australia.

Similarly, it may become even more problematic for residential real estate tech startups focused on the search process to get started. I doubt Zillow will license its listings to others. And suppose MLSs increasingly have gaps in the coverage of listings. In that case, it’ll be hard for those tech startups to compete with a sufficiently good experience.

What’s interesting in all of this is that the average real estate agent only makes, on average, $50,000/year. And I’ve always said it’s substantially more work to be a buyer’s agent than a seller’s agent. As a seller’s agent, your scope of work is somewhat finite. List the property on the MLS and make sure buyers can find it. Some seller’s agents go above and beyond that, but at least expectations are straightforward. However, as a buyer’s agent, especially in a hot market, you might take your client to dozens of properties, make multiple offers, and never close a transaction that results in a commission.

If buyers have to pay their agent directly to help them buy a property, how many will opt to do so? Maybe if the service can be part of the financing cost, it’ll remain commonplace. But if not? It seems unlikely that most buyers will want to pay on a percentage basis. Maybe fee for service (e.g., hourly) will become a more common thing with buyer’s agents.

There is much yet to shake out in the months and years ahead. But one thing is sure to me – meaningful change in real estate is on the horizon.

This Week’s Quick Hits

• More updates to come soon on our home build process. For now, I don’t want to jinx anything.

• For those of you in Minnesota, hope you’re enjoying the unseasonably warm day!

Photo by Shefali Lincoln on Unsplash

I’ve founded numerous software businesses over nearly 30 years now. If I’m counting right, HomeSpotter’s first product in the market was also the seventh software product I created and would go on to commercialize. And that’s skipping over some things I built for fun with no intent to commercialize, some things I made for others while employed, and some things I thought were great ideas and started that I still couldn’t get to the finish line.

And along the journey, I’ve had nearly every advantage possible to put me on a path to success:

• My Mom gave me access to a computer and some coding books, and I started coding in BASIC at the age of 6.

• My parents were successful entrepreneurs and frequently talked about what was going on in their businesses at the dinner table.

• I started my first software business selling Windows shareware, which I wrote when I was a sophomore in high school.

• As I got further along in my career, multiple people were willing to take a bet on me and invest. Others gave helpful advice along the way.

And yet, I think it wasn’t until just the last ~7 years (after starting HomeSpotter) that I realized some key things I wish I had learned earlier:

1. For prolonged success, it helps if the problem your product is solving resonates with you deeply.

2. Just because you build it doesn’t mean they will come.

3. It is imperative to have a north star and a current plan for where you’re going.

Even with ~15 years prior experience to starting HomeSpotter, my standard playbook had always been:

1. Hey… I wonder if I could build this?

2. Now, I’m making this thing just to see if I can build it.

3. I have a very vague picture of where I’m heading.

4. Wait… I guess I should think about who would buy this now!?

5. Why did I build this in the first place?

I started reflecting on this in part as I’ve been thinking through this process of writing a game app with my son that we hope to monetize.

There is no shortage of courses that teach adults and kids alike to code. But I wish more courses introduced kids to the idea of software entrepreneurship holistically. Such a course might assume that kids would learn about coding elsewhere. It would instead focus on critical things like:

1. How to identify promising ideas to build.

2. How to validate an idea before making it.

3. How to break down a product into manageable parts to be built.

4. How to market and sell a product after it is created.

Fortunately, better resources now exist for first-time technical founders. Y Combinator has made many resources available at large through Startup School. And online forums like Hacker News now exist where technical startup founders can congregate online and share ideas.

While those are great resources, I can’t help but wonder if there isn’t something that could be just a little more approachable for the 8 to 18 year-old crowd.

Mark Rober, an engineer well known for making creative gadgets and walking through the process on YouTube, has a fun course called Creative Engineering: Bring Your Creative Ideas to Life with Science & Engineering. It was impressive how it goes into parts of #1-#3 in my last list above. It doesn’t just prescribe a thing to build and then show how to do that. It forces you to come up with your own idea of what to make after thinking about why to do it in the first place.

Now, if there were just something like that for software entrepreneurship! Had such courses existed when I was a kid, I suspect I would have launched different ventures and gone even further with some of them. This isn’t meant to diminish my successes or minimize my failures. I’m grateful for every experience and live without regrets. However, I am a little curious about how things might have been different if I learned more about product management or simple business concepts like TAM or if I had focused on pre-selling ideas before building them at a much earlier age.

For those of you in and around software, product management, and entrepreneurship … do you know of any good resources for kids? It doesn’t have to be a complete end-to-end course like what Mark Rober has for engineering… It could just be smaller things – like a resource focused on turning an idea into digestible user stories, for example.

Or… if any of you know of someone pursuing this idea further, I’d love to find a way to support it in some fashion. An intro would be appreciated.

This Week’s Quick Hits

• Speaking of kids and entrepreneurship, I love the hustle of my daughter. Last Sunday, she knew she wanted a lemonade stand in the afternoon. And she knew Kate & I would be hesitant, given the extra effort. So, she preemptively created a dozen flyers to hand out around the neighborhood about her lemonade stand. (She’s already got the assumptive close figured out!) It worked… I told her if she could recruit at least one friend to do it with her, that I would help her get the lemonade stand going. She had three friends signed up within a couple minutes. And... her flyers drove sales, too.

• I really enjoyed a recent podcast episode of Norah Jones is Playing Along where she invited Dave Grohl on. Go check it out!

Image by ErikaWittlieb from Pixabay

I get passionate whenever I see an injustice being committed. And I use the term injustice here in the broadest sense. There are actual systemic injustices that seriously need resolution – like the over-incarceration of people of color. And there are also trivial matters in my personal life that I treat as large injustices – like someone cutting me off in traffic.

One of the things I hope I’ve grown in over the past few years is that some things just aren’t as black and white as they may seem to me at first. For example, in some prior presidential election cycles, it was easy for me to draw many negative conclusions about many people.

Propaganda, a recording artist and spoken word poet says, “Nuance is sacred work.”

In our increasingly online world, it’s become common to treat people who don’t have the exact same views as yourself as “others” and “outcasts.” This has two rather adverse effects. First, it insulates us from connecting with potentially large parts of the population. Second, it gets in the way of rational thought and thinking for ourselves. You start to get a limited diet of diverse perspectives and, worse, may unknowingly look to fewer arbiters of truth to determine whether something is acceptable.

An increase in cancel culture has made it a norm to view some people as unredeemable. There are some actual monsters out there, and an increase in accountability for heinous acts is good. And yet, some people are “getting canceled” for a poor word choice on a bad day. Who hasn’t said something they wished they could take back multiple times? Maybe you’re lucky it wasn’t caught online in a public forum. I’d like to think we can all learn, grow, and find redemption.

One of my favorite podcasts is the Lex Fridman podcast. Lex is an engineer, and many of his guests focus on some deep scientific or engineering topic. But he often invites otherwise polarizing figures on various other matters. Lex often invites guests from both sides of an issue across multiple episodes. He does this in an attempt to better understand complex topics.

A recent episode of the podcast made me do a double-take. It’s no big secret that I really didn’t like President Trump. However, Lex’s interview with Jared Kushner made me question several things. On the one hand, I still believe that Jared was the beneficiary of nepotism in being installed in some high-level positions of power without prior qualifications. And I wish Jared wasn’t such a proponent of President Trump.

On the other hand, though, I now believe Jared is also a very thoughtful individual who took a novel approach and did some positive, impactful things with the power given to him. There are many things he said in the episode that I disagreed with. But there was a lot to learn from, too. As I often say, two things can be true at once.

I’ve wanted to write about the need for more nuance for a long time. But as I’ve tried to write on this topic for the last year, every example I’ve thought about previously feels like just too hot of an issue. I’ve got some nuanced takes on many controversial matters that I’m not ready to write about in a public forum. I don’t want to get canceled or written off. So, hopefully, you can appreciate the Jared Kushner example I’ve provided. For some of you, it will require a double-take, and for the rest, you will realize it was hard for me to say it.

I could write many more words on why empathy and nuance are needed now. But I’ll wrap up by saying this… before you react to someone’s hot take on a current conflict or on an upcoming election, try a little empathy. Empathy is seemingly much easier to find in face-to-face interactions, where it is easier to hear and see the nuance. It’s often hard to find online. Written words can more easily be mistaken or viewed outside of a larger context. It may be easier to cast a negative narrative on someone based on limited bits of information available. But especially with those individuals you’re close to, it’s worth it to fight past that and try to forge a deeper level of understanding. As Lex says, “Kindness and empathy is not weakness; it’s strength.”

This Week’s Quick Hits

• After a long wait, it seems like we’re starting to see some progress on house build in Minneapolis. I hope to share more soon.

• Have a nuanced take you want to share privately? I’d love to hear it. Reply here to email me, I’ll keep it confidence, and I won’t judge you. I would love to keep the conversation going.

Photo by Daniele Levis Pelusi on Unsplash

Somehow, a recent conversation with my kids stemmed into me asking ChatGPT 4 “Who is Aaron Kardell?”

ChatGPT dutifully responded:

As of my last update in January 2022, Aaron Kardell is an entrepreneur and business leader based in Minneapolis, Minnesota. He founded HomeSpotter, a company that provides software solutions for the residential real estate industry, aimed at simplifying the complexities of real estate marketing, transactions, and relationships. HomeSpotter's products include advertising automation, collaboration tools, and other marketing services for agents, brokers, and MLS organizations. HomeSpotter was eventually acquired by Lone Wolf Technologies, and Aaron Kardell transitioned into a leadership role within the acquiring company, typically as VP of Product Management.

In addition to his work with Lone Wolf and HomeSpotter, Aaron Kardell has been involved in other entrepreneurial ventures and has a reputation for being a serial entrepreneur. He often talks about the joys and challenges of building businesses, the significance of team dynamics, and the importance of product management. However, specific details may have evolved, and it would be a good idea to look for the most current information if you need up-to-date details.

My immediate reaction was a mix of both pride (sorry, I’m vain) and fear stemming from the simple fact that ChatGPT knew who I was. Was information on me really part of the ~1.7 trillion parameters its large language model was apparently trained on?

It’s been a couple weeks since I asked ChatGPT that and I’ve had a nagging thought since then… I sure hope when I leave this earth I’m known for more than the business I built and sold and where I worked afterwards. I wished ChatGPT had responded that I was a good husband and father, that I wanted to leave the world in a better place, and that I happened to be an entrepreneur.

It’s been a couple of weeks since I asked ChatGPT that and I recently remembered that I gave ChatGPT some instructions about me. Maybe its language model doesn’t know me independently after all. I went back and looked what I had given it as custom instructions about myself previously:

I am based in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I am a software entrepreneur, having built and sold multiple businesses. I currently work as VP of Product Management for Lone Wolf, the company that bought my last startup, HomeSpotter. Lone Wolf provides software for the residential real estate industry. In addition to that work, I own and manage a short-term rental business with a property in Puerto Rico. My goals are to be a good father and husband, to live a balanced life, and to leave the world in a better place than I entered it.

Hmm. This sparked so many questions for me. Here’s a small sampling of the rabbit holes I went down.

Does ChatGPT know who I am without the custom instructions?

No. But also, yes. Let me explain…

Turning off my custom instructions, if I ask ChatGPT “Who is Aaron Kardell?”, I don’t get much:

As of my last update in January 2022, Aaron Kardell is not widely recognized as a major public figure in the same vein as some celebrities, politicians, or industry leaders. It's possible he could be a private individual or a professional in a specific niche that isn't broadly recognized in mainstream media. Alternatively, he might have gained prominence after 2022.

If Aaron Kardell is related to a specific industry, topic, or event, providing more context might help. However, if you're inquiring about someone in a more private capacity or someone who has recently become notable, the best approach would be to consult more recent sources or databases.

OK. So, I’m not famous! Duh.

If I get more specific and ask ChatGPT “Who is Aaron Kardell, the software entrepreneur in Minneapolis?”, I get something pretty specific:

As of my last update in January 2022, Aaron Kardell is a software entrepreneur based in Minneapolis. He is best known for founding several technology startups, including the mobile real estate app HomeSpotter (previously known as Mobile Realty Apps). HomeSpotter offers tools for real estate agents, brokers, and MLSs that make the buying and selling process smoother for both agents and their clients.

Kardell's journey as an entrepreneur began at a young age, and he has been recognized for his contributions to the tech scene in the Twin Cities area. Over the years, he has been involved in various ventures, and his innovations in the real estate tech space have garnered attention and accolades.

Like many tech entrepreneurs, Kardell's career is evolving, and it's possible he has been involved in new projects or roles since 2022. If you need the most recent details on his endeavors or career, you might consider checking recent news articles or updates on professional networks like LinkedIn.

Does ChatGPT know anything about my professional history outside of HomeSpotter?

No. It literally just makes stuff up.

“What other startups did Aaron Kardell launch?”

As of my last training data in January 2022, Aaron Kardell's most notable startup was HomeSpotter (previously known as Mobile Realty Apps). However, before HomeSpotter, he founded other ventures:

1. LocalMaven - A platform designed to reward individuals for referring businesses they love to others.

2. altruik - A software solution focused on search engine optimization.

Kardell, like many entrepreneurs, may have been involved in various other ventures or experiments at different stages of his career, whether they achieved wide-scale recognition or not. For the most up-to-date information on Aaron Kardell's ventures, it would be best to refer to his personal LinkedIn profile or recent interviews and publications where he might discuss his current and past endeavors.

I most definitely didn’t found either of those. I don’t have any connection to them whatsoever.

“What other jobs has Aaron Kardell had?”

As of my last update in January 2022, specific details about all of Aaron Kardell’s previous employment might not be comprehensive, as my knowledge is dependent on publicly available information. Before founding his known startups, Kardell might have engaged in various roles that helped him accumulate experience and skills in the tech and entrepreneurial spaces.

For precise and detailed information regarding his career history, Aaron Kardell’s LinkedIn profile or other professional networking profiles would be the best resources to consult, as individuals often list their past positions, responsibilities, and accomplishments on these platforms. Alternatively, interviews, press releases, or articles featuring Kardell might also provide insight into his professional background and experience.

If you need up-to-date and comprehensive details about his career, consider referring to the most current resources, as this information might have changed or expanded since my last knowledge update in January 2022.

What, if anything, does ChatGPT know about HomeSpotter?

Kind of a lot, I guess.

“Tell me everything you know about HomeSpotter please.”

Certainly! As of my last training data in January 2022, HomeSpotter is a real estate technology company known for its suite of tools and services that cater to real estate professionals. Here's a detailed overview:

Background:

1. Founder: HomeSpotter was founded by Aaron Kardell.

2. Former Name: Originally, the company was known as Mobile Realty Apps before rebranding to HomeSpotter.

Products and Services: HomeSpotter offers a range of products for brokers, agents, and MLSs (Multiple Listing Services):

1. Connect: This is a branded home search app for brokers. It provides real-time MLS data and allows agents to collaborate with their clients directly within the app.

2. Boost: Boost by HomeSpotter is an automated advertising platform. It automates the process of creating, placing, and optimizing online ads for real estate listings. It's particularly known for its ease of use and its capabilities to create ads for social media platforms like Facebook.

3. Spacio: A digital open house solution, Spacio helps agents automate visitor registrations and follow-ups. It captures leads and integrates with other CRM tools to make the lead management process seamless.

Philosophy and Mission: HomeSpotter emphasizes collaboration and streamlining communication. Their tools are designed to make the relationship between real estate agents and their clients more efficient, interactive, and productive. By integrating real-time data, user-friendly interfaces, and collaborative features, HomeSpotter aims to modernize the real estate buying and selling experience.

Growth and Recognition: Over the years, HomeSpotter has expanded its services and has achieved recognition in the real estate tech industry. The company has collaborated with numerous MLSs and brokerages, and its tools are used by a significant number of real estate professionals.

Other Features: Apart from the primary tools mentioned, HomeSpotter also offers features like integrated messaging, which allows agents and their clients to chat within the app. This feature is aimed at reducing the back-and-forth often associated with traditional means of communication and simplifying the home search process.

This is a broad overview of HomeSpotter based on information available up to 2022. For the most current details, new product offerings, or changes to existing services, you might want to visit the official HomeSpotter website or look for recent news articles and press releases related to the company.

“What company acquired HomeSpotter?”

As of my last training data up to January 2022, Lone Wolf Technologies acquired HomeSpotter. Lone Wolf Technologies is a leading provider of residential real estate software, and the acquisition of HomeSpotter was in line with their strategy to expand and enhance their suite of digital technology solutions for the real estate industry. This acquisition further solidified Lone Wolf's position in the real estate tech space and allowed them to offer an even more comprehensive set of tools to real estate professionals.

Does ChatGPT know anything about me that isn’t related to my professional experience?

If it does, it’s not letting on.

“What things are important to Aaron Kardell besides being an entrepreneur, real estate, and startups?”

As of my last update in January 2022, specific personal details about Aaron Kardell's interests and passions outside of his professional life as an entrepreneur were not widely published or discussed in prominent sources. Generally, public figures like Aaron Kardell may have personal interests, hobbies, and commitments that aren't as widely recognized as their professional accomplishments.

If you're looking to get a sense of Aaron Kardell's personal interests, his social media profiles, personal blogs, or interviews might provide more insights. However, it's always important to respect the privacy of individuals and not make assumptions based solely on publicly available information. If you need specific or updated details, you might consider reaching out to Aaron Kardell directly or looking for recent interviews or articles where he may have discussed his personal life or interests.

What did I learn from this vain exercise?

I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. But if ChatGPT 4 knows this much about me unaided by realtime search or full access to the current Internet, it knows a lot about a lot of other things too. And that’s exciting and just a bit scary at the same time.

This Week’s Quick Hits

• I haven’t written that much up on ChatGPT to date. Any topics you’d be curious to have me dive into more?

• For your unrequested weekly Taylor Swift update… Kate just told me that Brittany Mahomes (wife of Patrick Mahomes) is the biggest winner in this whole Travis Kelce dating thing. Brittany recently went out to dinner with Taylor, Blake Lively, and Sophie Turner. Now you know.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

I’ve been trying harder recently to “default to yes” with my kids.

Put simply, if one of them asks to do something, I try to find a way to respond with yes.

One of them may want to do an additional after-school activity. It may mean more trips back and forth to the school for me at a potentially inconvenient time. But I try harder to make that work.

The other one may want to go for a bike ride on the weekend. After a long week, I might be tired and want to chill. But I find a way to prioritize it.

Maybe they want to stop at Dairy Queen on the way home from school. There are many times I don’t have time to stop, and I’m also not going to say yes every day. BUT- that brings all the more joy for us both when I’m able to say yes.

Recently, my son asked me to build a game together. It’s going slower than I’d like because I need to learn to be a better teacher and collaborator. But I hope we have one to show off together by the end of this calendar year.

It’s not always easy to say yes. And the reality is, sometimes I can’t say yes, and other times I say no for no justifiably good reason. But for me, the main thing that has helped is understanding my “North Star ‘Why.’” I recently did a mid-year revisit of my Plus, Minus, Next list from the end of last year. A few family-related things from my “Priorities for 2023” stood out as still needing more attention. So here I am working on that.

What strategies work for you in being available to your kids?

This Week’s Quick Hits

• I’d be honored if each one of my subscribers responded to this email on one question I have this week. As I’m going through the process of building a game with my son, I’m curious…

  • What are your go to favorite games on your phone or desktop?

  • How often do you play them?

Photo by Aziz Acharki on Unsplash

A few weeks ago, Kate was cleaning out a drawer and uncovered this:

I barely remember giving out this bizarre “gift certificate.” But I remember Kate asking me around that time, “Can’t you just have one weekend per month that you fully take off?”

I’ve left this gift certificate in a place for the last few weeks where I see it daily. And each time I look at it, I perceive what I’m seeing differently.

It serves as a reminder of how hard I worked to build a business. 80+ hour work weeks were the norm for 10 years.

The life I was living then feels so foreign to me now. I want to think I’m now at a place where it’s exceedingly rare to choose work over family or to work every weekend. And I’m fortunate that I don’t need to work as hard now as I was then.

Still, there are other times I look at it where I still see a near and present familiarity. I’m better at prioritizing my family, working a more sensible number of hours, and living out work-life integration in general. But one thing that I don’t think has really changed is that I don’t have an off switch. And I rarely make it through a weekend without doing some work.

I’m a changed man. But I’m still very much a work in progress.

What things in your life from years ago are similarly foreign and familiar?

This Week’s Quick Hits

• In honor of one of my nieces, who’s a big David Bowie fan, here’s a brief write up on how Queen and David Bowie collaborated on making “Under Pressure.” David Bowie and Freddie Mercury never performed it live together, but here’s a video mashup of them as though they did.

Photo by Austin Curtis on Unsplash

This week, we closed the old HomeSpotter office in Minneapolis. I’ve worked out of the Minneapolis Grain Exchange’s three buildings for 12 years, and it feels like the end of an era. I was pretty ambivalent about the decision to close the office as it wasn’t being used a ton and was the financially prudent thing to do. Nevertheless, walking out of the office this past Wednesday made it real and impacted me more than I thought it would. I apologize as I wax nostalgic about this…

It all started in the summer of 2011. I had started what would later become HomeSpotter two years prior. Still, up until that point, I hadn’t hired any employees. That summer, I hired three interns. I had to upgrade from working out of coffee shops and find space to work together. A popular local coworking space – CoCo – was opening its second location in Minneapolis in the historic Grain Exchange. Three buddies and I went in on renting a “reserved campsite” for “6-8 people” at Coco together. Saying there was room for 8 at this reserved space was … generous. I think we paid $1,200 per month for this space, and it was great to split that rent with friends who were independent contractors.

I was so cheap at the time that I avoided paying for parking downtown by parking on the other side of the river and instead paying $50 a year to rent a bike from Nice Ride and ride it across. That kept my operating expenses for this office first office to ~$600/month for the business + $50/year for “parking.”

I was only in the CoCo space for a year and a half, but it was very impactful. At the time, it was the place for startups and independent contractors in Minneapolis to be. I met many people there, including some who would become angel investors, independent contractors, or employees for HomeSpotter. Also- the coffee was excellent.

By late 2012, as we were pushing past 8 people, we were starting to overstay our welcome in our relatively small “campsite.” We signed a lease in the building with the Grain Exchange and moved to our own office downstairs in 109M. Around this time, I got comfortable paying $150/month for parking downtown.

Our first day in our own office with our cheap custom-built ‘mega’ table

We had about 1,400 square feet downstairs, and at some point, we managed to squeeze nearly 20 people into that space. Side note… I don’t recommend that.

Two memories that stand out to me most from that space. First, we had no running water, and I was trying to solve how to make coffee. I was excited about this combined water cooler/coffee maker I purchased from Costco. I somehow managed to break it on very first use. Fortunately, Costco’s return policies are rather generous.

Second, at some point, I realized it was ridiculous to try and fit so many people into the space. While waiting on the build-out of our new future space, we secured two additional temporary spots spread out across all three buildings and multiple floors. One day, we signed our biggest customer to date, increasing our annual revenue by ~40%. I went full “Ballmer” and ran from each one of our offices to the other, screaming in celebration.

In September 2014, we moved to the space that would serve as home for most of our time in the Grain Exchange - 365N. We were able to work with the building on a custom build-out, and we had a design that really suited us. Our creative director, Nate, oversaw the design and build-out decisions. As we were moving in, I learned that we had orange … I mean, “coral” colored doors. Nate wasn’t sure how I’d respond, but I loved it. At some point, many of the rooms received Arrested Development-themed names. The lunch room was called “The Banana Stand”. Our small conference rooms were “Lucille 1” and “Lucille 2”.

I don’t even know where to begin with so many memories in that space. It’s where I experienced most of the highs and lows of running an early-stage startup. Over time, certain norms developed. Every Friday, we ordered lunch and had a weekly company meeting. We expected people on their birthdays to bring in donuts for everyone else or be shamed. We had a gong to ring when you closed a sale.

Many seemingly crazy ideas were hatched in this office. For example, we decided to make superhero bobblehead figurines of MLS executives and send them to them as part of a whacky marketing campaign. Another day, I made a rule that I’d buy donuts any time someone would run to the donut shop and back in 10 minutes or less and then proceeded to show that it could be done.

We were running out of space again in late 2019 / early 2020 and explored other options in the building. As COVID spread, we adopted a “work from home by default” policy early on. I was unsure what to do about our office lease renewal. Still, it was an excellent time to negotiate deals on office space. We secured a much nicer and larger office for less money, with a lot of optionality on getting more space or terminating the lease early with no penalty.

We moved into 960N in the summer of 2020 and have been there since. In reality, that has meant that 4 days a week, I’ve gone into an empty office of >6,000 square feet. Often, there’d be one day a week with a rotating crew of a half dozen people.

For that reason, it’s no surprise that we closed the office. It wasn’t financially prudent to continue to lease a large office that hardly anyone was using. At Lone Wolf, we still have quite a few employees in the Minneapolis / St. Paul area… however, most people prefer to work from home most of the time.

There have been a lot of last times and new beginnings since selling the company over two years ago, but this change hit a bit differently.

As evidenced by going into a large empty office, I don’t particularly appreciate working from home. But ultimately, I’m not going to miss the physical space. The offices were nice enough. But the building was old and in need of a ton of maintenance.

Even though I’m an introvert, I miss working with people in person. And I can’t help but be reminiscent of memories created with a fantastic crew of individuals over the years.

I’ve been transitioning out of the office in August – forcing myself to work from home. It’s okay. Life moves on. If I have days that are light on meeting schedules, you’ll find me returning to my roots and working from coffee shops more often. I like the change of pace and the white noise they provide.

We celebrated Wednesday’s last day in the office with a lunch and a happy hour. It felt particularly fitting to share lunch with Mark and Sarah, having shared so many memories over the years in that space.

If you’re reading this and you joined me on the HomeSpotter journey somewhere along the way – whether as an employee, customer, vendor, contractor, investor, or other key collaborator – all I have to say is thanks. It was a fantastic ride, and I’m grateful to each of you for joining me.

And to be clear, I’m still at Lone Wolf… Just working remotely and not primarily focused on HomeSpotter matters.

This Week’s Quick Hits

• Despite the end of one era noted above, I ended a nearly five-year hiatus from working on HomeSpotter code this past week. It was likely a one-off occurrence designed to help the team meet a sudden, unexpected deadline on an area of the code I knew well. One-off or not, it felt good to know I still could.

• Here’s an interesting take on solving the student loan debt issue from a couple months ago by David Frum. As he says, it’s so crazy it just might work.

Catching Up

¡Hola! It’s been a minute since I took a hiatus from this weekly newsletter in early June. So, I thought I’d take a few words to catch up on life…

My wife, Kate, was able to take a sabbatical for June & July, and we used that opportunity to spend much of it in Europe with the kids. We traveled all around Spain, Portugal, and the south of France, and we had shorter stays in Germany, Sweden, and Denmark before heading home. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I’m grateful things worked out so we could take the time together as a family.

I may devote a future post or two to broader trip takeaways. For now, I’ll just say that Sweden was our surprising favorite stop for all four of us. We also loved the beaches in Portugal and various small towns across Spain and France.

We ended Kate’s sabbatical with a final quick trip for all four of us to LA to catch Taylor Swift in LA on the Eras tour. I’ve already written about how I unexpectedly became a Taylor Swift fanboy, so I won’t devote too many more words here. But suffice it to say, it was a fantastic show. As we were about to enter SoFi Stadium, we were pulled aside to get interviewed by a documentary crew that wanted to interview Dads with their families. My “Dads are Swifties too” shirt was the spark to tee up the conversation.

All that to say, this summer has been good for my soul. I’m grateful for the support of my coworkers and boss. And I’m continuing to enjoy the season I’m in.

It wasn’t a true sabbatical for me, though. I did quite a bit of work while I was traveling. Nevertheless, I was much more intentional with my time, and changing environments also allowed my mind to wander. I also had the good fortune of pausing or canceling many recurring meetings during this time. Which leads me to this week’s main topic…

Zero-Based Budgeting of Time

One year at HomeSpotter, our CFO advocated for using a zero-based budgeting process for next year’s budget. Unfortunately, we didn’t pursue it then, but in hindsight, I wish we would have.

Zero-based budgeting is a financial planning and budgeting approach where each expense must be justified for each new budgeting period. Instead of rolling over numbers from the last quarter or year and making minor tweaks, you return to square one with a bunch of zeroes. You question each line item. Is this expense absolutely essential? Can we live without it or find a more efficient way to cover the need? It brings sharp intentionality to the budgeting process by forcing you to focus on your highest go-forward priorities instead of just carrying forward what you’ve always done in the past.

Recently, I had an opportunity to take a zero-based budgeting approach to my time. Those of us in corporate roles naturally accumulate many recurring meetings on our calendars. Sometimes, these meetings are necessary, unavoidable, and/or even productive. But many other times, there’s an inertia of doing the same thing that’s always been done. If you’re not looking out for and protecting your most precious resource – your time – no one else will.

Returning from vacation with many recurring meetings temporarily removed from my calendar provided an excellent opportunity to re-evaluate my calendar moving forward. It’s still a work in progress, but I’m trying to apply increased intentionality regarding where my time is spent – both during the work day and beyond.

It all starts with a question… if my calendar for the next day, week, or month had nothing scheduled, where would I allocate my time? This often isn’t realistic. I end up doing things that aren’t high on my priority list. But it’s a good forcing function to help guide you to a schedule that better aligns with where your priorities are.

As I write this, I realize this is just a little different spin on the need for prioritization, intentionality, and ruthless elimination… and that I’ve written a few times about such topics this past year. But I’m revisiting it because I need to be reminded of it personally. Hopefully, it’s an encouragement to you as well.

Return to Writing

As I’ve run through this exercise of zero-based budgeting of my time, I wondered whether I wanted to return to writing this Sunday newsletter. The hiatus from weekly posting was a nice break. And I’ve had several posts this year where I felt like I was forcing a weekly post.

Ultimately, there was motivation to return to writing, though. I value clarifying my thoughts as I write these posts. I’ve had several topics during the hiatus that I want to write about. So, I decided to add weekly posts back to my schedule – with a few caveats.

Previously, posting times on Sunday were ad hoc, based on when I write, which is usually whenever I find time over the weekend. I sometimes had a sinking feeling as Sunday stretched on that I “had to” post, and I still didn’t have anything good written.

Moving forward, I plan to write a draft of a post no later than Saturday and set a publish time for Sunday between mid-afternoon and early evening. If I don’t have anything I’m compelled to write, or I’m not pleased with Saturday’s draft, I’m just not going to post that week. I won’t put any undue pressure on myself to write and won’t apologize for not posting on a given week.

Also, I will probably take a couple months off of writing every summer and a month off around the winter holidays. One of the weekly newsletter writers I respect, who’s been doing this for many years, follows a similar pattern, and it works well for him.

This Week’s Quick Hits

• Tim Ferriss’ recent post on Threads struck a chord with me: “These days, more than any other question, I’m asking “What would this look like if it were easy?” If I feel stressed, stretched thin, or overwhelmed, it’s usually because I’m overcomplicating something or failing to take the simple/easy path because I feel I should be trying “harder” (old habits die hard).” Since he posted it, I haven’t remembered asking myself the question much. But when I do, it’s powerful.

• Sean Muldowney wrote a thread on Twitter/X about pastoring and politics. Whatever your politics or religious background, it is a compelling read.

To that end, I’m minimizing as many external obligations as possible for the summer – especially recurring ones. That includes my weekly posts to this newsletter.

I’m planning to return to writing sometime in August. I appreciate all of your support and feedback along the way. Have a great summer!

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

One of my smartest moves as a Dad was also purely accidental.

It all started six years ago when my kids were 8 and 3. At the time, every fifth or sixth weekend, Kate would be on call over the weekend and have to go in to work. On these weekends alone together, I was looking for ways to have intentional time with my kids rather than have us all resort to screen time the whole weekend. I would find fun things for the three of us to go do together. But sometimes, one of the kids would drag their feet and not want to leave the house.

Somehow, I came up with the idea of branding us as The Three Amigos and these special outings as Three Amigos Time. I wanted to create the allure of something unique that just the three of us got to go do. While somewhat accidental, branding these times as special had the impact of actually turning otherwise ordinary activities into something we all looked forward to. We wanted to plan ahead for these times.

Since then, we’ve expanded the scope of what we do from the simple, like bike rides to breakfast or lunch out together, to the more substantial, like a weekend trip to Chicago with just the three of us.

As Kate has fortunately had fewer weekends on call, there’s been less of a natural excuse for Three Amigos Time.

Tomorrow at 9am, the kids and I will head out on a long bike ride. Kate’s not on call this weekend. I fear the collective desire to hang out as The Three Amigos may not last much longer as my oldest will inevitably become too cool to hang out with us. So now I’m cashing in every opportunity for these special times together before their desire to participate fades away.

This Week’s Quick Hits

• A friend just launched their service called Tokyo Concierge. I was lucky customer #1 on our recent trip to Japan, and I can’t recommend the service highly enough. It was super helpful to have someone I could text during the trip and help us get reservations or other recommendations along the way. If you’re planning a trip to Japan- check it out! You won’t be disappointed.

Photo from Three Amigos!, the movie, by HBO Studios – all rights reserved