A simple challenge for you to start off your week -

Who is one person you could call today, that by in making the call, would make their day, week, or even month?

We all have someone we haven’t talked to in a while - someone who we know is going through it - or simply a really good friend who we know we don’t connect with enough.

If we know this already, what is stopping us from taking action today? Nothing. Pick up the phone before the day is over. You will benefit just as much as they do.

I periodically catch myself looking for a new organizational system that will help keep me on track. One of my biggest flaws is I am an idea guy by heart. I love to explore things, and come up with exciting new plans. The downside of this is if I am not diligent, I find myself bouncing from one idea to the next, leaving multiple open project loops. This ultimately ends up in an overwhelming state, where I go back to the drawing board on how to stay focused. And almost every time, I end up back in the same spot - with Tim Ferriss.

Tim Ferriss has spent decades studying how world-class performers think, work, and recover. One habit has shown up across all of these different prototypes - the best days don't begin in the morning. They begin the evening before.

Most of us end the workday by simply stopping. We close the laptop, answer one last email, and hope tomorrow's version of ourselves figures everything out. Ferriss does the opposite. He creates a clean handoff (which is what I lack in my least focused times).

Before shutting down, he reviews what's still open, captures every loose end into a trusted system, and writes down the handful of tasks that matter most for tomorrow. Nothing stays bouncing around in his head overnight because it no longer has to. It's safely parked on paper.

The next morning, he isn't deciding where to start. He's executing a decision he already made with a clear mind the day before.

Decision fatigue starts the moment you ask yourself, "What should I work on first?" If you answer that question at 9:00 p.m. instead of 9:00 a.m., your best energy goes toward doing the work, not choosing the work.

Here's a challenge I am reminding myself of this week that I believe will benefit you too.

At the end of every workday:

Tomorrow morning, resist the urge to check email or Slack first. Sit down and start Task #1 immediately.

It's a remarkably simple system, but that's the point. Productivity rarely comes from finding more hours. More often, it comes from removing friction between the person who made the plan and the person who has to execute it. The smoother that handoff becomes, the better your days tend to be.

Before Levi was born, conventional wisdom of becoming a dad assumed his birth would be the beginning of the end for my fitness. Less sleep. Less free time. Fewer workouts. At times even I wondered if I'd spend the next few years trying to hold onto what I had.

Instead as I look back on the last six months, the opposite happened.

Fatherhood didn't make me less committed. It made me less wasteful.

I don't have the luxury of 90-minute gym sessions anymore, so every workout has to matter. I walk into the gym knowing exactly what I'm doing. My lifts are more focused. My runs are planned around our family's schedule instead of squeezed in whenever I feel like it. I spend less time scrolling between sets and more time actually training.

Ironically, the constraints have made me better.

But while my programming has changed, that hasn’t been the biggest shift in my routine - it’s my purpose.

When motivation is low after a rough night of sleep or a long day at work, I don't think about upcoming race times or six-pack abs. I think about Levi.

I want him to grow up believing that taking care of yourself is normal. I want him to remember that his dad exercised, ate well most of the time, and made his health a priority without letting it become an obsession. Kids learn far more from what we consistently do than what we occasionally say.

That's become my baseline motivation.

If you're a parent, my advice is simple: stop trying to train like you did before kids. Train for the life you have now. And at the same time - don’t let the conventional wisdom and laundry list of new (completely valid) excuses let you stray off.

Plan your workouts before the week starts. Have a default 30-45 minute session you can execute without thinking. Protect the handful of key workouts that move the needle, then let the rest go without guilt. Consistency beats perfection when your schedule is full.

Parenthood changes your calendar. It doesn't have to change your standards.

In many ways, becoming a dad has made me healthier than I was before. Not because I suddenly found more time, but because I finally have had to lean into what that time was for.

This isn't the first time The Meaning of Your Life has found its way into The Superset, and I doubt it'll be the last. I am still diligently working on finishing books, giving them a few weeks to breath, and then revisiting them to address the takeaways that felt powerful in the moment.

What I appreciate most about Arthur Brooks is that he doesn't treat meaning as something you stumble into. He argues that it's something you build.

Most of us spend years asking, "How do I become more successful?" It's a worthwhile question, but Brooks encourages us to ask a better one: "What kind of life am I actually building?"

Those are very different pursuits.

Achievement is addictive because there's always another milestone waiting. Another promotion. Another race. Another financial goal. I find myself sprinting this rat wheel often, even when I remind myself maybe I shouldn’t be.

Meaning plays by different rules. It grows through relationships, service, gratitude, and living in alignment with what you value most. Ironically, the people who chase meaning often end up finding success along the way. The reverse isn't always true.

One exercise from the book stuck out again on the revisit because of its simplicity.

At the end of one day this week, write down the three moments that made the day feel meaningful. Not productive. Meaningful.

Maybe it was reading to your kids before bed. Helping a coworker without expecting anything in return. A great workout. A conversation with your spouse. Fifteen uninterrupted minutes with a book.

Then ask yourself one question:

"How can I create more days that look like this?"

Meaning rarely arrives all at once. It accumulates through ordinary moments that reflect what matters most to us.

The challenge isn't finding purpose. It's paying enough attention to recognize when you're already living it.