Hi! Happy New Year! January has become my on-ramp to the year—a deliberate slowdown, where I’ve learned to resist the pull of travel and big projects. It’s a month I’ve carved out for myself, to step back and think about my business, my goals, and the dreams I want to nurture over the next twelve months. It's the perfect time to start thinking about the future after taking the last few weeks of December to be still and reflect. But I’d be lying if I said stepping into 2025 didn’t feel heavy. There’s an uneasy energy in the air, a sense of looming uncertainty. Across North America, we’re seeing the sharp edges of climate change: wildfires raging on the West Coast while ice storms grip the East. It’s a jarring reminder of how deeply climate disruption is embedded in our new normal. Meanwhile, Trump’s ongoing rhetoric about annexing Canada, Greenland, and the Panama Canal isn’t just political theater—it’s stirring real unease in diplomatic circles. And then there’s the whisper of H5N1, eerily echoing the early days of 2020. Add to that rising fascism, anti-immigrant sentiment, and the relentless pace of polarization, and it feels like 2025 is already bracing for impact. Technological advances, like NVIDIA’s mini supercomputer, are hurtling us forward at a breakneck speed—one more thing to grapple with. (I'll be sharing my fave CES innovations next week.) It’s a lot. Take a deep breath. A few days ago, I came across a TikTok that put words to something I’ve been feeling but couldn’t quite name. It reframed my anxiety as something deeper: a collective grief for the state of the world and the avoidable suffering so many are enduring. I’ve been navigating grief for the past five years, and in that TikTok, I recognized an old companion. I just didn't know it can come in this form too. Not the acute, sharp pain of losing someone, but an aching, melancholy mist of despair that hovers over your day to day life. In therapy recently, a question surfaced that’s been lingering ever since: What does it mean to be okay in 2025? It’s a question that feels urgent as the world grows more chaotic. I’ve been toying with the idea of a regular grief or anger practice. A visit to a rage room last year was unexpectedly cathartic, and I’ve been wondering what it might look like to make space for those emotions on a weekly basis. To grieve. To feel anger, sadness, or hopelessness—and then to intentionally seek out joy, every single day, no matter how small. Building community and prioritizing face-to-face friendships feels like a necessary part of this practice, too. Winter, with its quiet and stillness, feels like the perfect season for these reflections. It’s a time to pause, ask ourselves hard questions, and map out where we want to direct our time, energy, attention, and money in the year ahead. Remember, nature's New Year comes in Spring, the season of rebirth. If you want to sit still a little longer and contemplate these big questions - there's plenty of time. Hustle & Float Day CalculationsAs I mentioned, January is my planning month, so I’ll be sharing some of my process. First up: calculating your Hustle and Float days. Being intentional with your time this year means understanding how much of it you actually have. One of my favorite exercises is to sit down and calculate my Hustle days versus my Float days. It’s always an eye-opening process that helps me ensure my goals are realistic. Here’s how the calculation looks (and apologies to my North American friends—European vacation time is a privilege I don’t take lightly): We start with 365 days in the year. But realistically, it’s about 20 working days each month, so 240 working days. Take away vacation (I take 20 days in August and 15 days in December), and that gets us to 205 days. Then I subtract 10 sick days and 8 migraine days. That brings me down to 187 working days. I’m also toying with the idea of Summer Hours in June and July—Fridays off—which would leave me with 179 working days total. That 179 number is essential when I think about the goals I want to accomplish. For example, if I plan to dedicate 50% of those days to writing, that’s only 90 writing days. If my output is 1,000-2,000 words a day, I know that if everything goes perfectly, I’ll write between 90,000 and 180,000 words. (For context, an average book is between 85,000-100,000 words.) This means I can realistically prioritize two writing projects. (Cue me weeping at my list of 17 works-in-progress.) This exercise also makes me intentional about how I track my time. It ensures I’m allocating those 90 writing days effectively and staying aligned with my priorities. Depending on your commitments—family, career, hobbies, or personal projects—this approach can reveal what’s truly possible and help you align your time with what matters most. You can get your own version here: Hustle & Float Days Worksheets.pdf Try this calculation and tell me what your number is! I'd be curious to see what differences there are in this community. As you can see, I've also included an optional financial planning section where we take the amount of working days we have and look at revenues needed and expenses incurred to get a better sense of what our earning targets should be. With this information, you can then think about the Lifestyle design box - knowing your parameters, how will you design your time to meet your goals? Challenging the Narrative on Regulations
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about Meta’s recent moderation policy changes and the broader narrative around regulations. There’s a recurring line you’ll hear from tech billionaires, including Mark Zuckerberg: that regulations—particularly Europe’s—stifle innovation. It’s an argument that’s as frustrating as it is flawed, especially for those of us advocating for consumer rights, privacy, and data protection. As a member of the UN's AI High Level Advisory Board, and a member of President Macron's Commission on AI & Democracy, I've spent the last two years speaking to experts, researchers and advocates - I can assure you the regulations proposed are sorely needed. Take GDPR, for example. Here in Europe, this regulation forces companies to ask for your consent before collecting your data. It also requires them to provide clear information on what they’re collecting, how long they’ll store it, and who they’ll share it with. I always click “See More” when these notices pop up, and it never ceases to amaze me how one site can share your data with over 1,800 advertising partners. The scale of data brokerage is staggering, and it’s something I’m diving into for future research. Then there’s the EU’s AI Act, which aims to ensure AI products respect basic human rights, prioritize safety and transparency, and include mechanisms to hold companies accountable for their societal and environmental impacts. So, I have to ask: what kind of innovation thrives outside of these conditions? What kind of business requires the absence of consumer privacy and ethical considerations to succeed? The reality is that many tech empires were built on exploitative data practices during a time of weak regulatory protections. Now, as similar patterns emerge with AI, these companies are angry that Europe is pushing back. Culturally, regulations are a social contract—a boundary that defines acceptable behavior. I’m not saying all regulations are perfect, but I’d like tech entrepreneurs to specify which parts of these policies they find problematic instead of relying on vague critiques. Historically, self-regulation has rarely worked. Companies didn’t stop using harmful chemicals, dumping toxic waste, or creating unsafe working conditions on their own. Regulations were necessary to enforce change. And as we move forward, they’ll remain essential in shaping the kind of tech ecosystem we want to live in. I don't think we should be overly regulatory either, but a more detailed conversation is needed. I'd like to ask exactly what parts of the AI EU act is so troublesome - I think the answers will reveal a lot about the priority of the companies building our digital futures. Content Corner:I loved this eye-opening essay from Antonio Melonio about how childfree people are more ungovernable because they can take more risks since they don’t have kids. “It’s very hard to protest, organize, riot, and set police cars on fire when you have mouths to feed and mortgages to pay. It’s much harder to divorce or break up when young children are involved,” Melonio writes. He goes on to say, “Families are easier to coerce into doing things they do not want. They have too much to lose when there are kids at stake.” Next, this is one of the most jaw-dropping articles I’ve read in a while—ProPublica published an explosive exposé about a man who spent two years undercover in a Utah militia without telling the police, FBI, or his family. Also, people have started using the term “Dior Bags” as code for drones, and for some reason, I find it very funny. Considering Dior recently faced controversy over the markup of their bags versus the cost to make them, I can’t help but wonder how their social media team is reacting to this unexpected spike in mentions tied to government, aliens, and various conspiracy theories. Over the holidays, a standout show we watched was Under the Bridge. It masterfully blends suspense with profound social commentary, exploring the aftermath of a shocking murder in a small Canadian community in British Columbia. The narrative intricately weaves in themes of immigration and integration, highlighting the struggles of belonging and identity in a society grappling with systemic inequities. The show doesn’t shy away from addressing the social causes that create violence, such as poverty and marginalization, and offers a piercing critique of how the legal system often gives preferential treatment to certain segments of the population. Through the lens of a group of high school friends, it delves into themes of betrayal, loyalty, and the secrets that bind or break us. In particular, Javon Walton’s portrayal of Warren is haunting. He seamlessly blends bravado with emotional vulnerability and captures the yearning to be a good person in a world that seems indifferent. His performance lingered with me for days, a testament to the depth and nuance he brought to the character. Its sharp character development and compelling narrative make it a must-watch for anyone interested in a drama that resonates on both emotional and societal levels.
Moving Forward with PurposeAs we step into 2025, there’s no shortage of challenges or curiosities to explore. From uncovering collective grief to recalibrating how we spend our days, it’s clear that this year calls for a balance of intentionality and adaptability. Whether we’re dissecting the ethics of regulation, laughing at unexpected internet trends, or grappling with the complexities of modern society, one thing remains constant: the need for thoughtful engagement and connection. Let’s commit to asking better questions, staying open to new perspectives, and carving out time for what truly matters. Here’s to a year of resilience, reflection, and discovery. Thanks for being here!! |
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