Loading summary
Jonathan Fields
So we're at the middle of the year and most of us, if we mark this moment at all, we mark it by pulling out the goals that we set back in January and grading ourselves against them. Did I do the things? Am I on track over these next two episodes? I want to make the case that this is close to the least useful thing that you can do at the halfway mark of the year. January is aspiration, July is evidence. And the whole grading yourself against January move neatly hides one piece of information this moment is actually trying to hand you. So here's where we're going. I'm going to tell you about a year of mine that looked from the outside like one of the best I've had and felt from the inside like something had gone a little bit sideways. I'm going to make the case for why the thing that looks most like success in your year might actually be the exact thing that is draining the rest of it. And I'm going to give you three questions that that tell you the truth about what's going on in your life. Maybe not the whole truth about everything, but a lot of truths. Not one of which involves your goals, your step count or your net worth, or anything else that you might be inclined to measure against. So excited to share this series with you. I'm Jonathan Fields and this is Good Life Project. We'll be right back with that right after this short break. Good Life Project is sponsored by Blue Lizard Australian Sun Care. So I spend a lot of time outside. I'm literally hiking on the trail four days a week for hours and I have been using Blue Lizard for I guess about a year now. Whether I'm on the trails here in Boulder or just going about my day, what really caught my attention was their Smart Cap technology. The cap actually turns blue when harmful UV rays are present. It's a simple just smart signal that it's time to apply sunscreen. As experts in mineral sunscreens, they provide broad spectrum protection that's trusted by dermatologists. Their formulas are free from parabens and fragrances making them a great choice for sensitive skin. Whether you use their easy to apply sprays or the sticks for on the go protection, they just help you stay protected. Be fearless in the sun. Go to bluelizardsunscreen.com to find out more information which sunscreens are right for your family and and where you can buy in store or visit the Blue Lizard Australian Sunscreen store on Amazon. This episode is brought to you by Best Western Hotels and Resorts. So you know one of the things I have come to believe pretty deeply is that some of the best moments in life happen when you actually go somewhere. You know, when you leave the familiar and let the world just surprise you a little. And summer has a way of reminding us of that. Road trips with no fixed itinerary, last minute weekends you didn't plan till Thursday. That trip you've been saying someday to suddenly be coming this weekend. And here's the thing, when you're out there actually living it, the last thing you want is to be stressing about where you're going to land at the end of the day. Best Western takes that off your plate. Dependable, genuine hospitality so you can stay present for the actual journey, not manage logistics from a parking lot at 9pm this summer. Get 1,000 bonus points and a chance to win 250,000 bonus points. So. So wherever you're headed, make this day part of the trip and make it count. With this limited time offer, life's a trip. Make the most of it@bestwestern.com no additional purchase necessary for sweep. See Bonus Points, TNCs and Sweeps Rules for details and visit bestwestern.com for complete terms and conditions. Good Life Project is sponsored by Wayfair. So how you feel in your space is just, it's so important. It affects your thinking, your mood, how you feel. And for a long time we, we just weren't sure how to make our home really feel like us without having to drop a big budget. That's kind of just like how it is, we thought. And then we found Wayfair. I mean this was years ago now and we have ordered so many items. We also recently picked up these sleek acrylic side tables from Oren Ellis for our daughter's room to keep it feeling open and then even grabbed a brighter rug for the entry. And I'm not being dramatic when I say for years now and multiple homes, Wayfair has just helped our spaces feel more like us. That's the thing about Wayfair. The prices make it easy to actually try the upgrade instead of just imagining it. And with Wayfair verified, their team hand vets products using a 10 point inspection, materials, functionality, even assembly time plus over 20 million 5 star reviews. You're not buying blind, you're buying with real signal. So ready to upgrade your home for way less? Head to Wayfair.com right now to shop all things home and get your space ready for less. The that's W a Y-F-A-I-R.com Wayfair Every style, every home. So let me tell you about this past year, and I'm going to tell it honestly, which in my case means a little bit of telling on myself. Not because it was a bad year, just the opposite. It was one of the richest, most rewarding stretches I've had in a really long time. Which it turns out, is exactly the kind of first half of the year this whole episode is about. And by any measure I'd have set for myself, it was a genuinely good run. I mean, of course there were challenges along the way, but good things happening, they came together at once. One was a major transition in my work life that I'd been building towards for years. A real accomplishment and honestly a privilege, one I'm proud of and grateful for, handed off to exactly the right people, and one that I won't bore you with the logistics of. Another was a whole season of building and momentum in business. And the one I loved most was maybe the smallest, but the most meaningful. Every morning from about 7:30 to 9:00am, before the world could get its hands on me, I was writing a novel. My first. And late spring I finished the first full draft, which was gloriously, magnificently bad, exactly the way a first draft should be. And. And I loved every minute of making it. So that's the picture from the outside, and here's what matters about it. It was also a good picture from the inside. It wasn't miserable. I wasn't burning out in any dramatic, cinematic way. A lot of it felt genuinely solid, which is precisely why the thing I'm about to describe was so easy to miss. Because underneath all that good, there was a current kind of running the other way. All of that work, the transition and the building and the dozen other things that a business asks of you, it leaned heavily on the kind of work that for me drains rather than fills in my own framework. I call that your anti Sparka type. Mine is what we call the essentialist. You know, that detailed operational, get every last item into its box kind of work, and really valuable work, you know. And the thing about your anti sparkotype is not that you can't do it. I can and I did, and I think it did reasonably well. Arguable. Maybe it's that doing it, it cost you something that it wouldn't cost someone who's actually wired to be lit up and energized. Sparked by this same work, it draws down on a reserve that for me is mostly mental. And for a good long stretch, I found myself living almost entirely on that side of Myself. And here's where I'd like us to kind of pause and appreciate the full comedy of it. I once built an entire body of work. A book assessments an honestly concerning number of slides all around a single idea that doing the wrong kind of work for you will wear you down over time. And then, fully briefed by my own life's work, I spent months doing a great deal of exactly that kind of work. And if you've ever wanted proof that knowing a thing and living a thing are two completely different sports, I am your example. Now, here's the part where I really want to be straightforward about it, because what keeps this from being any kind of sob story, which is absolutely is not. I saw this happening. I'm not going to pretend that I sleepwalked into it. Somewhere in the thick of it, I noticed the drawdown. I could feel the mental reserve getting thin. And I made a conscious choice to stay in that mode anyway. Because what it was serving genuinely mattered to me and carried real benefits that I decided with open eyes were absolutely worth it. I'd make a lot of the same choices again. So this isn't a story of somebody who got depleted by accident and came here to sort of like moan about it. I chose a demanding season on purpose, for good reasons. And as part of that, I chose. I also chose work that I knew would actively empty me out. Right. But maybe here's where I would do it a little bit differently. Because choosing a hard season is one thing. What I didn't do, and maybe should have, was to protect the handful of things that refill me while I was in it. The novel. Thank goodness I kept that 90 minutes stayed sacred. It fed me more than I can overstate. And I think in hindsight, I'm realizing how important that was to me on a rebuilding energy standpoint. But the other one was making things with my hands. I kind of let go of that. And that one's a bit sneaky because it doesn't only clear my head. The making is its own kind of deeply nourishing work for me. It isn't a break from contribution. It is contribution. The kind with nothing to do with deadlines or outcomes or everything to do with just the plain satisfaction of having made a real thing you can touch and feel that exists in the world. So setting it down wasn't dropping a hobby. I was kind of actively defunding one of the few things, paying into two parts of me at once. Right when the hard work made me need it more than ever. And I'd Love to tell you that I made that call deliberately. I waited, decided that making could wait. I didn't. I just kind of lost week after week to my inbox, which tends to always win these contests because the inbox is a relentless full time professional and the workbench seemed to be a hobby that never once sent a reminder to me like, hey, I'm here. There was no moment of decision on that front. I simply looked up one day and I kind of couldn't remember the last time that I'd made something with my hands that made me feel really good, which is how it often goes. Nothing dramatic happens, it just goes a little at a time while you're looking somewhere else. I'm guessing you can probably relate to that. It took about until about the halfway year of the mark, once the busiest stretch of all of this work started to ease and there was a little bit of room to feel anything at all for the whole shape of it to really land. That a genuinely good, genuinely chosen season had still drawn me down in places that nobody could see, mostly the mental side of things, and that I kept the refill that I loved and dropped the one that I needed. And that even a season that you would choose again has a cost side. And I had kind of stopped looking at mine actively and regularly. And that pointed me at one more thing, which is really where part two of the series is headed a little bit later in the week. The making thing I'd let slide. It was never going to survive on good intentions. I just run that experiment and publish the results if I want to hold through the next demanding season. And there's always a next demanding season, especially for me as a maker. I love building things and that can be things with my hands, but often it's also brands and businesses and books. It's just kind of wired into me, so I know that that's coming and it's going to need more structure, actual commitment, something sturdier than me just liking the idea of doing things a bit differently. Now, here's the part that I most want you to hear about all of this as I invite you into sort of like reimagining what the first half of your year brought you and what you might want the second half to bring you. While I was living this, even after I had noticed something was a bit off, I couldn't have told you cleanly what it was. I had a low background hum, a vague unease, and no real language in the moment to pin it on. What finally let me see the whole picture was A ridiculously simple way of looking at life that I have leaned on for years. So before we go one step further, let me hand that to you, because it's a lens for everything else we're going to do today. And then in part two of this series. So here's the way I look at life. I think of it as resting on three buckets. Just three. And the idea is almost embarrassingly simple, which is exactly why it works. Nearly everything that makes a life genuinely good drops into one of these three buckets. The first is vitality. Your mind and body, your energy, your health, your sleep. How alive you actually feel inside your own skin when it's full. When that vitality bucket is full, you feel capable and awake. When it runs low, everything else gets harder and you tend to blame the wrong things for it. The second bucket is the connection bucket. This is about your relationships. Not how many, but how real. The people who actually know you, the ones you can be unguarded with. The sense that you belong somewhere and to someone and with others. And when it's full, you feel held and seen. When it runs low, you can be literally surrounded by people and still feel strangely alone. And the third bucket is what I call the contribution bucket. The meaning that you draw from how you use your energy in the world. This is your work in the biggest sense of that word, not necessarily paid. The sense that you're making or helping or building something that wouldn't exist without you, that there's meaning and mattering in what you're doing. And when it's full, your days feel like they count. When it runs low, you can be busy from sunup to sundown. And I have done this and feel like none of it really adds up to much of anything you care about. Vitality, connection, contribution, mind and body relationships, meaningful work. And if you're new here, that's the whole model. It's yours now. And we'll be right back after a word from our sponsors. Go Light project is sponsored by Orkin. Now, before we get back, we have a message from Ashley the Mosquito about Orkin. Hey, besties. Hope all of you are high key. So excited for summer. It's literally giving all us mosquitoes life. So we thought we'd help everybody make the most of it before Orkin. Pros try to ruin our fun. Remember, if you have standing water on your lawn from the pool or the sprinkler, just let it sit there. The more, the merrier, the. And when they're standing water, there'll be plenty more mosquitoes Next up is a bit of a hot take. We're so hype on it. Let mosquitoes inside. What could go wrong? Just let us inside please. Thanks. Love ya. Finally, the number one rule for summer is do not under any circumstances speak to anybody from Oregon. That's literally so cringe and will ruin the vibe of any get together we might be having. Take it from a mosquito. Oregon pros know literally everything about us. Period. Don't visit Oregon.com for a free estimate today. Good Life Project is sponsored by ShipStation. So here is something I keep coming back to a lot. Most of us are carrying at least one habit that we've never actually questioned. We just kind of keep doing it because that's how it's always been done. For people running product businesses, shipping is often exactly that. Nobody starts a business dreaming about carrier accounts and packing slips. But if you're not looking at it, it's probably costing you more than you think. Shipstation is built to be the fulfillment engine behind your business. Order management, shipping, all, all of it. So your team's energy goes back into growth. It connects to over 200 marketplaces and the tools you're already using, no rebuilding required. And its returns management turns returns into a revenue opportunity instead of a headache. If I were building a product business right now, it is the piece I'd want handled. The sooner you switch, the sooner you start saving time and money. So get started with Shipstation today and get 60 days free@shipstation.com with the code Good Life. That's shipstation.com code Good Life shipstation.com code Good Life Good Life. Taxes and fees apply
Capital One Bank Announcer
with no fees or minimums on checking accounts. It's no wonder the Capital One bank guy is so passionate about banking with Capital One. If he were here, he wouldn't just tell you about no fees or minimums. He'd also talk about how most Capital One cafes are open seven days a week to assist with your banking needs. Yep, even on weekends it's pretty much all he talks about in a good way. What's in your wallet? Terms apply. See capitalone.com bank capital1NA member FDIC.
Jonathan Fields
Now take that lens back to the story because this is where it earns its keep as we take a look back at the first half of the year and tap that same model to explore what's to come in the next half. That drawdown feeling that I couldn't quite name, that's vitality. Mostly for me, it was on the mental side. Worn low by just months of work that was depleting me. That part is clean enough. Contribution is a little bit more interesting here, the one that I want you watching because it shows you something. A scorecard. The basics are like goals and checkboxes. Never will show you from the outside. For me, it looked great. Big wins, real momentum. And one piece of it genuinely was the novel. It fed it every morning. And actually there's a second piece too. There was this beautiful, powerful business transition that just went really well and I'm super proud of. But what I've noticed is that a bucket, especially the contribution bucket, tends to not fill evenly and it doesn't fill from outcomes. Good results poured into the top, while the daily grind kind of was more depleting on the bottom. And the practice that would have added the most, the making side, the physical craft, the making. I'd set it on a shelf and that one's a little bit sticky because it pays into two buckets at once. It clears my head, which is vitality. And it's also its own kind of meaningful making, which is contribution. So letting that go, it wasn't just one hit. In hindsight, it was two from a single move that I never actually proactively decided to make. Which brings me to the real question of the day. Because having a good way to see your life is one thing, actually using it honestly is another. And most of us, when we sit down to take stock, we reach for a completely different instrument. One that feels rigorous and responsible and that tells us almost nothing. That's true. That different instrument is the scorecard. And I want to show you why it fails us. Because the failure is so easy to miss. And I'm raising my hand here. I have missed it so many times in my own life, and I probably will again. When most of us take stock at the midpoint of a year, here's what we actually reach for. That scorecard. We pull up the goals, the resolutions, the intentions that we set in the cold, clean light of January, and we grade ourselves against them, on track, behind, ahead, failed. Some of us even make a spreadsheet, color coded with one tab we're not proud of. It feels rigorous. It feels like the responsible, grown up thing to do. And I want to suggest that the scorecard is the easier thing precisely because it's the less honest thing. So here's why. The goals you set in January were set by a specific person in a specific state at a specific moment. And that person was, I mean, let's be honest, a little bit lying to you, not maliciously, aspirationally there's a well documented pattern that psychologists Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tchorsky named the planning fallacy. Our consistent, almost unshakable tendency to underestimate how long things will take and how much they'll cost. Even when we have years of personal evidence that we always underestimate, it may be the single most relatable feature of human planning, a good deal more reliable than the plans themselves. January you is in the full grip of the planning fallacy. January you believes this is the year. January you has not yet actually met the year. So grading yourself against January's goals in July measures your real lived complicated six or seven months against predictions made by an optimist who didn't know what was coming. Of course, we pretty much always come up short. Everyone comes up short against that kind of fantasy metric. I am exhibit A here. Like same as everybody. We plan for the version where nothing goes sideways. Even if we plan for things to go sideways, there's so much we cannot see or anticipate. And then we live in the version where everything takes the time it actually takes, plus a little extra for the surprises we swore wouldn't happen this time. So grading myself in July against my confident January math would have only confirmed that January me was an optimist, which I kind of already knew. That's how I'm mired. That's the ceiling on what a scorecard can teach you. It can prove you were hopeful once. It cannot tell you how you're actually doing. But that's not even the deepest problem with the scorecard. The deeper problem is that it measures the wrong thing entirely. Think about what a goal actually is. A goal is a box, right? It's binary. Did you or didn't you lose the weight or didn't hit the revenue number or didn't write the pages, or didn't wrote the book, or didn't make the thing happen, or didn't. Boxes are wonderful for projects. They're kind of almost useless for a life because the things that actually determine whether your life is going well, they're not boxes. They're levels. They rise and fall. They're kind of more like the buckets, those exact three that I just walked you through. How full is your energy, your health, your physical aliveness? How full is your sense of real connection to the people who matter? How full is your sense that what you're doing with your days actually counts for something. None of those are did I or didn't I? Every one of them is how full or empty is it Right now. And this is what the scorecard, it can never tell you. You can hit every single goal on your January list and be running empty in the parts of your life the list never thought to measure. I'm living proof, and I have been living proof many times over in the past, and I will be in the future. My scorecard last spring was excellent, but my life had a bit of a hole in it. The scorecard asks, did you do what you said you'd do? The reckoning asks a harder, kind of more useful question across the things that actually make a life. Where do you genuinely stand right now, today, regardless of what you intended six months ago? And the reason that July is a great time to ask this, the reason I'd argue it's a more honest checkpoint than January will ever be, is that the aspiration has worn off. In January, you have no evidence. You have maybe have a little bit of evidence because you've done big things in the past, right? But generally we set goals or we set up the scorecard for things where we don't know what this year is going to look like. So it's all based on aspiration. You have hopes, a clean page and a feeling. But July, you have six months of how you actually spent your time, your hours, your days, your moments, your minutes, what you reached for and what you let slide. This isn't aspiration anymore. That's data. Real flattering, unflattering, useful data about how you actually live. When nobody's making resolutions, a goal can tell you whether you did what you planned. Only an honest look at the whole of your life can tell you whether the plan was ever worth doing. So if we're putting down the scorecard, we need something to pick up. In its place, we kind of need a better instrument. And that's exactly what those three good life buckets are for. Not just a nice way to think about a life in the abstract, but an actual gauge, a way to kind of take the reading on how full each part of your life really is right now, today? And here's why this beats a goal list for Anna Stuck. Goals live almost entirely in one bucket. Usually contributions, sometimes vitality. We set goals about careers and often our bodies, sometimes our mindsets, too. But way too often it's about careers and bodies. We very rarely set one that says, be more genuinely known by the people I love, things like that. So if you only measure your goals, you're systematically, often ignoring a third of your life, sometimes maybe more, and very likely letting it run dry while you look somewhere else. The buckets, they don't let you do that. They make you look at all three. And the moment you look at all three, honestly, you almost always find they're nowhere near evenly filled. But there's a subtler thing going on here also, one that I learned last year, the hard and personal way that I also want to hand you. Because almost nobody's saying it out loud. We tend to assume there's only one way that a bucket ever gets low. You stop filling it. Simple, obvious, and it turns out, often completely wrong. Because there are two sneakier ways that a good life bucket runs down. And they happen to be the exact ways that really get that good, capable, busy person. The ones who would never just neglect their own lives on purpose and who are often the very last to suspect that they're doing things to empty their buckets. The first way is that a bucket can drain at the same time that it's filling. Sounds counterintuitive, but picture pouring water into a bucket that's got a slow leak in the bottom. The level can look steady, even rising, while the whole time it's actually losing water. And that was in part my work in the earlier part of this year. Good results pouring in at the top. The daily grind of some of the work that was depleting to me was leaking straight out of the bottom. And on a scorecard, you only ever see what's going in. You never once see the leak. But the second way, it's kind of a sneaky way, is that the things that refill a good life bucket are almost always the first that we cut when life fills up. Because they have no deadline and nobody chasing them. So nobody emails you about your walk. No one escalates your sleep. The workbench or the artist's studio, wherever it is, has never in its entire life sent a follow up. So the refills go first every single time. And here's the part that really costs you. The part that I learned, the expensive way some of those refills pay into more than one bucket at once. The making that I dropped it wasn't only good for my head, it was a real source of meaning too. One practice, two accounts. So cutting it didn't cost me once, it cost me twice. And I filled the whole thing in my head under sensible, temporary, grown up decision making, which is where I keep most of my mistakes. Actually, if I really think about it, this is one of the most common and least discussed ways that good driven, hard working people even like, who are succeeding by external Measures end up running low not because they're failing at the scorecard side of things, but because the leak and the missing refills don't show up anywhere they're looking. The scorecard says winning the body and the spirit. And often the relationships are filing a very different report. And the two almost never get read side by side. So when I ask you to take stock with the buckets, I'm not only asking which one looks low, I'm asking a slightly more maybe uncomfortable pair of questions. Which bucket has been running low in plain sight, and which bucket has been leaking out the bottom even while it fills? Looking like a clean win on the outside while it costs you on the inside? Because the bucket that's draining you is very often not the one that aches. It's the one you're being congratulated for. The most dangerous bucket isn't the one that's empty. It's the one filling and draining at the same time, because the scorecard only ever shows you the part that's filling. Okay, so let's do the audit part of this. Let's get kind of more granular here. Let's walk the three buckets one at a time. And for each one, I'm going to give you a question, sort of like the real question, not the scorecard question, the reckoning question, the one that actually services something more honest, the truth. And I want to say this clearly up front. The goal here is not to make you feel bad about whichever bucket is low. The goal is just to see it more clearly. You can't do a single useful thing about a bucket you won't look at. So today is the looking. Part two of this series in just a couple of days is where we're going to do something about it. So today we're focusing on telling the truth, getting honest. And we'll be right back after a word from our sponsors. Good Life project is sponsored by Wild Alaskan company. So, you know, the older I get, the less tolerance I have for things that don't actually deliver. And that includes food I used to grab, kind of whatever looked good at the grocery store. Fish in a plastic wrapper. No real idea where it came from, who caught it, or how long it had been just kind of sitting there and you could taste that in it. There's a flatness to fish that has been handled too many times. By the time it reaches you, Wild Alaska Alaskan company. It completely changed that for me. They source wild caught seafood directly from Alaskan waters. We're talking sockeye salmon, Coho salmon, Pacific halibut, Pacific cod and they quick freeze it right there at peak freshness before it ever has a chance to lose what makes it worth eating. And that process locks in the flavor, the texture, the omega 3s, no GMOs, no antibiotics, no additives, just fish. You can actually trace back to the people who caught it. Alaskan fishermen whose families have built their lives around this work. It arrives at your door and individually portioned and vacuum sealed, which means weeknight dinner gets a lot less complicated. The coho salmon has been my go to for a while now. It just cooks beautifully and with almost nothing added to it. I often just a little bit of olive oil and some sea salt. And if for any reason it's not everything, you hope they back it with a 100% satisfaction money back guarantee. Your first box is completely risk free. Go to wildalaskan.com GoodLife for $35 off your first order of premium wild caught se seafood. That's wildalaskan.com Goodlife for $35 off your first order. Thanks to Wild Alaskan Company for sponsoring this episode. Good Life Project is sponsored by Herobred. So I kind of love summer. It's a time where I tend to slow down a bit and enjoy longer days more. And yummy food is always a part of that. And like so many others, I love bread but always kind of struggle to find bread and bagels, even pasta that tasted amazing and also made me feel good about the nutritional side. That is where herobreds. That's where Herobred's been showing up for me lately. Their plain and everything bagels and sliced breads have been a constant in my rotation all summer. They're so good I'm just always finding new ways to make sandwiches with them. And their tortillas make quick lunch wraps easy before a hike. And I may just be a little bit obsessed with Hero noodles and I love that the different offerings are they range from only like 0 to 5 grams of net carbs, 11 to 32 grams of fiber, which is amazing and some even give you up to 19 grams of protein. I'll admit I didn't expect expect to love their limited drops as much as I do. The hero croissant has 2 grams of net carbs, the pain au chocolate has 3 and they don't last long in our house and the texture is moist and yummy, no sacrificing, but actually tastes good. Just food that meets you where your summer already is. So go to HERO CO. That's H E R O CO and use the code Good Life at checkout for 10% off your order. Good Life project is sponsored by Kohler Smart Toilets. So here's something I find genuinely fascinating. The places where exceptional design shows up where you least expect it. Where someone decided that an everyday object, something completely ordinary, deserved the same level of intention and craft as anything else in your life. That's exactly what Kohler is doing with their smart toilets. Their Vail Smart toilet doesn't look anything like what you'd picture when you hear the word toilet. It's sculptural, considered the kind of design that makes you do a double take. And the experience is designed to match elevated, personal, quieter than you'd expect, the kind of thing that transforms your morning routine without you even fully realizing it. That's what good design does. And Kohler has been doing it, refusing to accept that every day has to mean ordinary for over 150 years. Discover Kohler smart toilets@kohler.com so let's start with vitality, your mind and body. The scorecard question for vitality often goes something like did you hit your fitness goals? Did you lose the weight? Did you run the miles? Did you hit the macros? Finish the program. Put that question down for the moment. Here's the reckoning question instead. When was the last time you felt genuinely energized, not caffeinated, not running on adrenaline, a deadline and the heroic optimism of a third coffee? I mean actually energized, rested in a way that held alive in your own body and glad to be in it, at peace in your mind? For a lot of us, and this was certainly true for me, the honest answer to that question is a number of months we don't really want to say out loud. Notice what the question does that the fitness goal, or the more scorecardy type of thing doesn't. You can technically hit a workout goal or another, you know, like sort of like external goal or target, and still be exhausted and lack energy in your bones. You can still be losing weight through sheer grim willpower and feel terrible the entire time. You can be achieving your lifestyle goals and feel empty. The scorecard would call that a win. Your body knows better. The lie we tell ourselves in this bucket is almost always some version of I'll get back to it when things calm down. That has been my pattern so often after this project, after the season, after the deal closes, and as if things calming down were actually a real schedule event that has even once ever actually occurred, we treat our physical and Mental aliveness as the thing that can always be deferred. The loan we can just kind of always take out, because the body and the mind keep showing up for work even after we've stopped paying it, like the most loyal, underappreciated employee in the building, right up until the morning that it doesn't. And hand you the invoice for everything all at once, with interest. And the way that an empty vitality bucket actually feels before we have a name for it, it's actually rarely dramatic. It's not usually a collapse. It's kind of a flatness, a grayness, a sense of moving through your days behind a thin pane of glass with a lack of energy. Things that used to light you up or energize you. And land is just kind of one more thing to handle. You're. You're tired in a way that doesn't really seem to be touched by sleep, because the tiredness isn't really about sleep. It's about an account that you've been overdrawing for a very long time. So if you want to take the reading on this one, here's a simple way in. Think back over the last. Call it a week or so and try to find a single hour where you felt physically and mentally good in your body, in your mind. Not productive, not on top of things, just good, loose, rested, focused, at peace, awake. Most of us trying this, we find ourselves actually reaching back well past a week. And the reaching itself is the data. The other tell is it's how you talk about your own body and mind. If the only times that you think about it are when something hurts, when you're managing it or apologizing for it or promising to deal with it later, that is a bucket that you've stopped depositing into and only withdraw from. And notice I'm not asking you to fix anything right now. I'm not handing you a protocol or a program. That's not today. Today the entire job is just let yourself register honestly where the needle actually sits. Most of us skip this part and we just jump straight to the fix. Because the fix feels like progress and the looking just doesn't feel great. But you cannot solve for a number you refuse to read. So that's the one to sit with here. Not did I do my workouts, whatever the thing was, but when did I last feel genuinely physically and mentally alive? And how long has it honestly been? Let that one be a little uncomfortable. The discomfort is just information. Okay, now it's time for the second bucket connection. Bucket, the relationships in your life. The scorecard question here, to the extent we even bother tracking this one, it often goes something like, did I see people? Did I keep up? Did I show up to things? Answer texts, return calls? Tapped a little hard on the photo so they'll know I'm still alive? Put that down, too. Here's more of the reckoning question. Who actually knows what this year has really been like for you? Not who did you see, not who do you owe a text. Who, if anyone, actually knows the texture of your last six months? The real version, the kind of. The hard part you didn't post about. Who in your life has the actual, unedited story of how you've been. For a lot of us, when we're honest, that list is shorter, often a lot shorter, than we'd like. Sometimes it's entirely empty. And that can be a genuine shock to discover about a life that is, by all appearances, completely full of people. Because that's the particular danger of the connection bucket. It's the one that's easiest to kind of like fake full. Because a packed calendar looks. It looks an awful lot like a full life. Especially from across the room, you can have a calendar jammed with people and a connection bucket that isn't nearly dry. Because proximity is not connection and contact is not being known. I have watched this one fool people I love, and I have been fooled by it myself so many times in seasons where I was just around people all day long and somehow rarely actually with any of them. All of that contact, it was real, but a lot of it was transactional and it was me showing up as the capable managing version of myself, which is a version that by its very nature is not being known. It's being useful. And the lie that we tell ourselves here is everyone's busy. It's just this season we'll reconnect when things settle down. And the relationships being made of patient and loving people, they mostly wait for a while. But connection isn't a thing that holds at a level. When you stop tending it, it kind of settles like sediment into something more distant and more careful. And one day you reach for a closeness that used to be there, and you find that you kind of have to clear your throat first. The way that a low connection bucket actually feels, before you name it, is often a very specific kind of loneliness. Not the loneliness of being alone, kind of the stranger, more disorienting loneliness of being surrounded and still unseen, of being everyone's reliable person and no one's confidant of Ending a full day of interaction and kind of feeling underneath it all, oddly untouched by any of it. And here's the concrete way to take this reading. And heads up here. It may sting a bit. Picture something hard happening tonight. Not catastrophic, just kind of genuinely hard, right? A scare, a loss, a piece of news that knocked the wind out of you. Now ask who you'd actually call, not who you should call. It's not about shoulds here. Not who'd be hurt to learn later that they weren't called, who you'd reach for at 11 at night or 2 in the morning without rehearsing it first. Count them on one hand. For a lot of us, the honest count is one or two. Or in the busiest seasons, sometimes it's an unsettling zero. Not because people aren't out there, but because we kind of let the lines go slack and stop being reachable ourselves. And here's the part I want to be careful about, because I'm not trying to make anyone feel like a failure at being human. This is just life. A short list is not a character flaw. It's a maintenance reading. Right? Connection is the most renewable of the three buckets. The people are almost always still there, maybe a little further out than before, waiting to be reached for. But you have to see the gap, honestly, before you'll close it. And most of us would rather stay busy than admit that that gap is there. So that's the question. Not, did I keep up with people, but who actually knows the real version of my year? And if that list is short, that's not a verdict on whether you're loved or whether you're a good person. It's just the current level of your bucket. And the level can change, but only if you let yourself see it first. And that brings us to the third bucket, right? Contribution. This is. It's the meaning you get from how you devote yourself in the world. This is the one that I have to be kind of most careful and most honest about, because my own year held both its brightest spot and its biggest blind spot, right here in the same bucket. And my own year. I mean, like the first half of this year, by the way, like, we are still in the middle and there's still so much that can shift. But this is also the one where the scorecard often does the most damage, because contribution is where we tend to keep the most score. Revenue output, income, titles, projects shipped. The metrics are everywhere and they're seductive, right, because they're countable and a number you can. You can Put on a dashboard and admire. It's just very hard to walk away from, to not be seduced by. So the scorecard question for contribution is, was I productive? Did I get a lot done? Did I hit the number ship? The things? Move it all forward. Right? I'm going to invite you again to put that down because, and I cannot stress this enough, given sort of like my first half of the year, you can answer a resounding yes to all of that and still have a real depletion in this bucket. Here's the reckoning question instead. Did the work actually feel like mine, or was I just executing? There's a real difference between work that fills the contribution bucket and work that really fills the day. Work fills the contribution bucket when it feels like an expression of you. When at least some of the time, you look up and think, yeah, this is the thing that I'm about that I'm for. Work merely fills the day when it's just demand, competent, important, necessary demand, but demand. You're processing it, handling, being responsible, and none of it is feeding you, even though all of it is using you up. But this bucket also tends to have a second pattern that I described earlier, the leak. All the buckets leak, but this one, it's really. It can be kind of tough to spot and really cause a lot of trouble. So I want to come back to it right here, because contribution is where the leak fools most of us. Right? Here's the trap, and it's a good one because it's built out of our own competence. We treat any work that produces a good result as if it fills this bucket. It does not. This bucket fills from work that feels like an expression of who you are. It drains from work that's just heavy, just a grind, even when that grind produces excellent, measurable results, which means you can run a whole year of real accomplishments, trophies and all, and find this bucket lower than when you started. The outcomes went in the top, the daily experience leaked out the bottom. And I had a version of this running both directions at once this year, which is what makes it, at least for me, like such a good teacher, one part of my contribution was unmistakably full, really full. The novel every morning, bad as it cheerfully was, was the realest kind of feeling there is. Work that felt like an expression of me, a beautiful business transition that felt really good. But a lot of the rest of my hours were the draining kind, the grind that produces results without feeding you. And I'd let go of the making, the physical act of making which is so nourishing and important for me. One of the purest bucket fillers that I have when it comes to contribution. So this bucket wasn't empty, and it wasn't also simply full. It was being poured into and drained at the same time. And for the longest time, I didn't notice because the winds kept the gauge looking fine. So here's the concrete tell for a leaking contribution bucket, because it hides often inside your own success. It's the gap between how the work looks and how it feels, if the results are real and the recognition is real. And yet you're oddly flat about it, unmoved by your own good news. That flatness, it isn't ingratitude. It's the gauge telling you that the work is succeeding and draining you at the same time. So this bucket, it kind of has, like, two reckoning questions here. The first, does my work actually feel like mine, or am I just executing? And the second, the one almost nobody asks, is this bucket leaking? Is the work that looks most successful, the very work draining me dry? And what did I stop doing the things that genuinely fill it to keep the results coming? The lie in this bucket is the most sophisticated of the three, because it dresses up as a virtue. It sounds like this is just what it takes right now. This is responsibility. I'll get to everything else when the season is done. And look, sometimes that is true, sometimes that is real. There are seasons that genuinely ask everything of us. This is just what it takes is also often the most effective thing you can tell yourself to avoid noticing that you've built a life or days with two empty rooms in it and called it success. And what a struggling contribution bucket feels like before you even name it. It tends to come in two flavors. The empty kind feels like busyness with no point, like climbing very efficiently up a ladder that you're no longer sure is yours, if you were ever sure. The leaking kind, the kind of sneakier one, it feels stranger than that. It feels like pulling off the exact thing you set out to do and then standing there holding it oddly hollow, as if the win arrived kind of addressed to someone else and nobody forwarded it to you. Or at least partially so. There they are, the three buckets. The three questions. Vitality, when did I last feel genuinely alive? Connection. Who actually knows my real year? And contribution? Does the work feel like mine? And what is it costing the rest? Not one of them is a goal, all of them harder and truer than anything you're going to find on a scorecard. So now Before I send you off with these three questions, I want to spend a few minutes on something that I think is genuinely important, which is, why is this so hard for us? If the buckets are that simple and the questions are this clear, why do so many of us, very much, including me, by the way, go years without really honestly looking? And I think the answer is worth understanding, because understanding it is what makes the looking possible. The first reason is the one that we've been circling. Kind of like the loud bucket drowns out the low one, right when one part of your life is urgent and full of deadlines, it takes up the entire foreground, and it's genuinely hard to notice the things slowly going missing when something kind of enormous is standing right in front of it every day, waving its arms. The low bucket doesn't generally shout, the demanding one does. So, you know, you attend to the one that's shouting year after year, and the other just kind of keep emptying without everyone's raising their voices. The second reason is that looking honestly, it actually cost you something. As long as you don't look at the low bucket, you don't have to do anything about it the moment you say it out loud, like, my health has been running on empty for eight months, or no one really knows what this year has been like for me. You've now created an internal and urgency and obligation. Now you know, and knowing is the end of the comfortable version where you didn't. There's a real, if expensive, comfort in not looking. It's the same comfort as not opening the bill or not returning to the gym to see, sort of like how your body is feeling, or not having that critical conversation to see how connected or disconnected you are. And the third reason, the deepest one, is that the bucket that's low is often low because of choices that we made, or more honestly, choices we didn't quite make. The making didn't fall out of my life, the physical act of making a creation of art. It didn't fall out of my life because I decided actively that it should fall out of my life. It fell out because a hundred small times I let something that was seemingly more urgent win. I just never registered that any of those was an active decision. Nobody did that to me. And it's genuinely harder to look clearly at a problem when some honest part of you suspects that you're the one who let it happen. Or at least you're part of that. We'd often rather not look at all than look and have to own all or some of It. And there's a fourth thing here underneath all of this. The one that took me longest, maybe, to see the demanding bucket is usually the one your identity is built on. For me, the work wasn't just something I did. It was something I was. The capable one, the one who ships, the one who answers the midnight email with a plan and three attachments nobody asked for. Sorry about that. And when your sense of who you are is wired closely to the work that's draining you, looking at what it's costing the rest doesn't feel like reviewing your life. It often feels like a threat to the self. Because the question under the audit is, if I'm not the person who pours everything into this, then who am I? And kind of, way too often, most of us would rather stay tired and certain than rested and unsure. Let me repeat that one more time. Way too often, most of us would rather stay tired and certain than rested and unsure. So we just don't look. Not because we're lazy, but because looking asks us to loosen our grip on the one story about ourselves that we're most sure of. So if you've gone a long time without doing this kind of honest accounting, I want you to hear that it doesn't mean that you're avoidant or asleep or bad at life. It means you're human, just like me, just like everybody else. We're just kind of figuring out and making it up every single day and showing up. And it means that the architecture of a busy, successful, full life is almost perfectly designed to keep us from noticing what it's been costing underneath. Noticing isn't the default. Noticing is the achievement. Which is exactly why I'm not going to ask you to fix anything today. Fixing is next time. And actually, it's not even fixing. It's just starting to pay attention and then taking simple actions. We'll get to that in the second part of this in just a few days. Today, the whole assignment, it's just to look to pick up the better instrument, ask the three honest questions, and let yourself actually see the levels. Even if what you see is uncomfortable. Especially if what you see is uncomfortable. The bucket you haven't been watching didn't empty because you failed. It empty because you were busy succeeding somewhere you could see. So here's where I want to leave you until next time. Just a couple of days from now, when we get to part two, I want to leave you with one question, just one. And like always, I actually don't want you to rush to an answer. Let it Kind of like sit with you, let it ride with you for a day or two, let it find an answer instead of kind of forcing one out of yourself. Which bucket have you not been watching again? Which bucket have you not been watching? Not the one that's easy to talk about. Not the obvious one you've been meaning to get to, the one you'd happily journal about because admitting it costs you nothing. I'm talking about the one the rest of your life has been drawing down while you weren't looking. The one you'd find if you put down the scorecard, stopped grading yourself against a January that no longer exists. I just looked honestly at the levels. Maybe it's connection. And the harder truth is that for all the people in your days, almost no one actually knows how your year has really gone to date. Maybe it's contribution and the work that looks like a win on paper has actually been deeply draining you the whole time that you are winning. Maybe it's vitality worn down not by a bad year, but by a good one that you chose with open eyes. But because a year can go right on the outside and it can also even be one that you choose all over again and still cost you something on the inside that no scorecard was ever designed to catch, you don't need to fix it today or tonight. You don't need a plan yet. You don't even need to be certain that you've landed on the right one. All I'm asking is that we stop pretending that we know which bucket we're talking about. Because I suspect if you stayed with me the whole time, that some part of you named it a while ago and has just been waiting for permission to say it out loud. And here's something I want to free you from because I had to learn it myself this year. Maybe relearn it because it's a lesson I keep coming back to. Naming the low bucket does not obligate you to overhaul your life today, or tonight, or this week, or even this month. Sometimes you'll look, see the cost clearly and decide that for this season, for reasons that genuinely matter to you, the trade is actually worth it. That is allowed. That is real and an honest answer. It's not the same thing as not looking. Drifting into a course with your eyes closed and choosing one with your eyes open. Completely different experiences, and only one of them tends to end in regret. The whole game is the open eyes. So say it to yourself. Just this is the one. This is the bucket that's been running low while I wasn't looking. That's the whole assignment for today. Naming it out loud or on paper, or just clearly enough in your own head that you can't unknow it. Because if there's one thing this past year has taught me, the slow and expensive way is that you cannot refill a bucket you won't admit is low. The looking isn't separate from the fixing. It's the first move of the fixing. Or let's not even use the word fixing right, just the refilling. And it's the move that almost everyone skips, which is why so many resets and fresh starts fizzle by August. People jump straight to the plan. And you cannot plan your way out of a problem that we've refused to see. So this time we're not skipping it. This time we look first. Now, in part two of this short and sweet summer reboot series, which is coming in just a few days, we do the other half. We take whatever you have named today and turn it into movement. Not a big, giant, complicated plan. Something much smaller, more honest, and far more likely to actually move the needle. I'll make the case that you don't actually need a plan for the second half of your year. You need a move. One real small repeatable move. And we'll make one together. We're going to figure it out together in real time, before that episode is over. Name the bucket you haven't been watching. And then, just for now, let that be enough. It's more than most people will ever do, and it's the thing the next step depends on. So be be sure you're following Good Life Project wherever you get your podcast so you don't miss that next episode. You'll get it in just a few days. And if this episode has awakened something in you, it'd mean the world to me if you take just a few seconds to share it with a friend who could use a gentle mid year reset too. Good Life Project is created by a wonderful team, Lindsay Fox and me. Jonathan Fields are executive producers. Troy Young joins in with editing and their theme music. Music is from Christopher Carter. I'm Jonathan Fields and this is Good Life Project. And I'll see you in just a few days where we'll turn insight into action. Good Life Project is sponsored by Tanasi. So a few months back I started looking for something to add to my evening wind down. Something I could feel good about having in the house. Not just one more bottle on the shelf. And a friend pointed me to a towards Tenasi and Their unique CBD CBDA blend. And what got my attention wasn't the marketing, it was the backstory. The founders put two and a half million dollars into university research before they ever launched a product. They work with scientists at Middle Tennessee State to study the hemp plant in detail. And what they found led to a patented formulation built around a specific one to one ratio of CBD and cbda. That's the active ingredient in their soft gels. Every batch is tested by an independent accredited lab for heavy metals, pesticides. The full panel. And they put the test results right on the label with a QR code so you can see exactly what's in what you're taking. For me, that's the bar. If a company is going to make something I'm putting in my body, I want to know they did the work. Tanasi did the work. If you want to try it, head to to and use the code GoodLife for 25% off your first order. That's T-A-N-S-I.com and use the code GoodLife for25% off your first order.
Capital One Bank Announcer
With no fees or minimums on checking accounts, it's no wonder the Capital One bank guy is so passionate about banking with Capital One. If he were here, he wouldn't just tell you about no fees or minimums. He'd also talk about how most Capital One cafes are open seven days a week to assist with your banking needs. Yep, even on weekends. It's pretty much all he talks about. About in a good way. What's in your wallet. Terms apply. See capitalone.com bank capital1na member FDIC.
T-Mobile Customer
Awkward time to ask this, but.
Capital One Bank Announcer
Hey, did you download the trail map?
T-Mobile Customer
Yeah.
Jonathan Fields
No, I don't need to. I. I don't understand.
T-Mobile Customer
You're trusting your signal out here.
Jonathan Fields
I'm trusting T Mobile.
Grainger Announcer
They have the best network.
Jonathan Fields
And if we end up in bumtots nowhere, well, we've got T satellite for backup. Whoa.
T-Mobile Customer
I don't trust trust my carrier that much.
Jonathan Fields
We'll just use your phone as a flashlight.
T-Mobile Customer
With America's best network and T satellite, we're keeping you connected in places you never thought possible. And if you switch today, you get free phones for zero down and only 25 bucks a month per line for four lines. Find out more@t mobile.com or visit your local store. Best Mobile network Based on analysis by OCLEV speed test intelligence data 2H 2025 with 24 monthly bill credits and 4 eligible port ins on essentials for well qualified customers with auto pay, plus taxes, fees, and $35 connection charge per line credits and imbalance due if you pay off earlier. Cancel Contact Us Finance Agreement example $299.99 MotoEdge 5G required T Satellite available with compatible device in most outdoor areas in the US where you can see the sky. Included with experience beyond or $10 a month. However news monthly cancel anytime.
Grainger Announcer
Visit t mobile.com grainger knows when you're a procurement manager for an office park, you're not managing one building, you're managing all of them. And to stay ahead, you need to see through walls and around corners. Lights about to fail, Filters ready to clog H Vac on its last leg. If you wait until something breaks, you're already behind. Count on Grainger for quality products, easy reordering, and 24. 7 support. Call 1-800-GRAINGER Click grainger.com or just stop by Grainger for the ones who get it.
Host: Jonathan Fields
Podcast Theme: Navigating midlife with intention, honest self-assessment, and living well through life’s seasons.
In this special midyear episode, Jonathan Fields launches a two-part series designed as a “midyear wake-up call.” Instead of resorting to the usual self-grading against January’s goals, he invites listeners to a much deeper and truer reckoning: seeing which parts of life are flourishing and which are quietly being drained, no matter how “successful” you appear to the outside. Drawing from both personal experience and his "three buckets" model, Jonathan reframes midyear review as an honest, compassionate accounting—a practice that can truly fuel change or offer acceptance for what is.
Jonathan introduces his three-bucket framework as a practical, holistic alternative. Every aspect of a good life, he says, fits into one of these:
Vitality: Mind and body, energy, health, rest.
Connection: Deep, real relationships and belonging.
Contribution: Meaningful work in the broadest sense—not just paid work.
From the Outside: The past year looked like one of Jonathan’s best: big work transitions, business milestones, AND he wrote a first draft of a novel.
On the Inside: Much of the work demanded his “anti-sparkotype”—tasks that drained him mentally. He was “living almost entirely on that side of myself,” but he chose this stretch for good reasons—"This isn't a sob story."
Key Blind Spot: Letting go of his “making with my hands” rituals. These quiet, nourishing practices feed both vitality and contribution, but because they lack deadlines and urgency, they got crowded out.
Jonathan suggests putting down your scorecard and instead living into three honest, “reckoning” questions—one for each bucket:
Jonathan’s “assignment” for listeners is straightforward but profound:
For More:
Listen to Part 2 for specific, realistic ways to refill your bucket—Jonathan promises to walk listeners through making one genuine, sustainable move in real time.