Life Lessons From My 10th Grade English Teacher, Dean Smith, and My Favorite Barista (Re-Post)

A few random thoughts from experiences I've had and things I've read

Hey everyone,

Because it’s been a little while since my last newsletter, and because this post from June 2022 was well-received, I’m re-sharing it with you today. The piece includes a few lessons that have stayed with me over the years. Notably, many of the stories highlight the importance of checking in with others — and yourself.

Wherever this note finds you, I hope it helps you and your loved ones find some peace. We need one another. ❤️

Warmly,

Matthew

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Here are some life lessons I have pondered over the last week or two:

1. To this end, I thought about a Warren Buffett quote. He says his wealth contributes little to his contentment. He fills most of his days by eating at McDonald’s, drinking Coke, and reading. He enjoys a low-key life in Nebraska. He has lived in the same modest home since 1958. He’s giving away to charities just about every dollar he’s ever made. He once said, “My life would be worse if I had six or eight houses. It just doesn’t correlate.”
   

2. My 10th grade English teacher assigned us many helpful writing assignments and reading homework: The brilliant writing of F. Scott Fitzgerald, other short stories, and writing prompts. But one of my lasting memories from her class came when she said that she called her aging father every night after school. I remember not feeling chills but feeling a different kind of sensation, almost numbing. It resonated with me a great deal because it was apparent that she realized life is fleeting, and her father’s time was limited, especially in his later years. I often think about the time she said that 10 years ago, and the importance of checking in on others.
   

3. At the barber shop the other day, a man sat in the chair next to mine and told his barber a story about a vacation he had been on. He and his wife walked from their suite to the beach each morning. On the first day, at 10:30 a.m., an attendant brought them cold towels to place over their faces. The man said it was a pleasant surprise. The next day, the towels came again at 10:30. The third day, they came again. Fourth day, same thing. But on the fifth day, when the clock hit about 10:35, he said he turned to his wife and said, “Where the hell are the towels?”
   
   Speaking from the barber’s chair, his point was that we can easily grow accustomed to nice things without appreciating them. My takeaway is to truly soak in what we do have. We have made incredible medical advancements, technological advances, and more, leading to longer, healthier lives and many daily conveniences, and yet we get complacent. Anything could be taken from us at any moment, including life itself. Let that drive us to live for today — with gratitude, even for nice towels to dry us off after we shower.
   

4. On a recent podcast with Jon Gordon, inspirational guru Ed Mylett recited a story about attending a 5-year-old kid’s birthday party. For some time, the kids were hitting the piñata, but it wasn’t breaking. Just as the kids were growing frustrated, a child hit the piñata and all of the candy fell out. This is what Mylett called “invisible progress,” and it’s on display in all areas of life. Think of invisible growth next time you question how far you’ve come, or whether a breakaway could happen. It might sound cheesy, but it’s often true: Chances are, if we’ve put in the effort, we could be on the cusp of a breakthrough. “You’re probably making more progress than you give yourself credit for,” Mylett said. “It’s just not visible yet. Keep going.”
   

5. Ocean Vuong, a poet, told a story on the “On Being” podcast (“A Life Worthy of Our Breath”) about a control where researchers were trying to get lab mice to move through a maze. They labeled one mouse the smart, intelligent mouse. And the other mouse was the control, just a normal mouse. The reality was that they were both normal mice. “There was nothing special about them,” Vuong said. “But the one labeled the superior mouse always went through the maze faster. And that phenomenon is actually something that’s still studied, but one theory is that it was the human beings who attended them. The ones that had the ‘good’ label, the ‘promising’ label, were tended to with more care — ‘special.’” Pay close attention to labels and how we name things.
   

6. Arturo, a barista at the local coffee shop I frequent in Manhattan, arrives most days before open at 7 a.m. He rises at 5:30 from his Bronx apartment and takes the subway to work, where he helps clean, set up, and prepare drinks for the day. I visit the shop a few times per day, and he greets me each time with a warm smile. “Hello, Matthew!” he says, and he starts preparing my order before I speak. On days I’m a little tired, he greets me with a smile. On days the coffee shop is packed, he greets me with the same energy. The other day, I sat in the shop for a few minutes, observing him. He deals with rushed customers, rude customers, and hungry customers. He keeps the same stoic, warm approach to each order.
   

7. Point To The Passer: Famous North Carolina basketball coach Dean Smith had a rule that everyone had to follow when he was coach (1961-97), and the tradition continues today. When you make a basket after getting a pass from a teammate, you point to the person who passed you the ball. This quick act of gratitude and acknowledgement highlights what’s necessary to be a good teammate (and person, friend or colleague).
   

8. Give thanks. In high school, I won a small scholarship award through our baseball team. The game and scholarship was in honor of a player who was killed by a drunk driver years ago. After the honor, I wrote a thank you note to the late player’s brother. What he said in his reply speaks volumes about the meaning of giving thanks, especially when people least expect it:

   “Congratulations to you for being awarded this scholarship,” he wrote. “My brother was a talented player but more than that he loved baseball and brought that passion to every game he played. I'm sure that you now have the scholarship because you have displayed those same qualities throughout the season. I also have to congratulate you on your good manners, I have been involved in this memorial game for 32 years and I honestly can't remember the last time a scholarship winner took the time to send a thank you note or e-mail to my family. This seems to be something that has fallen out of fashion, and your following through on this is a testament to your manners and to how your parents raised you. … keep writing those thank-you sentiments and small notes to people, you never know how much a gesture like this means to someone. I can tell you it meant a lot to me. Thank you again for your kind note, I will be certain to pass it along to my mother.”
   

9. The other day, our office custodian was waving to people as they walked by on the 52nd Street sidewalk. He’s usually sweeping the hallways, lobby, and sidewalk with good energy — usually, much more energy than the people in suits and ties who don’t acknowledge him when they walk by. Anyway, he said he has learned to always give, give, give: Give people your kindness. Give them your positive energy and smile. Give them your love. “It comes back to you,” he said. “If it doesn’t come back to you, it comes back to your children.”
   

10. Jimmy Valvano, his father, and the art of support (H/T Ryan Holiday):

    In high school, Jimmy Valvano told his father he was not only going to be a college basketball coach, but he was going to win a national championship. A few days later, his dad pointed toward the corner of his bedroom, “See that suitcase?” “Yeah” Jimmy said, “What’s that all about?” “I’m packed,” his dad explained. “When you play and win that national championship I’m going to be there, my bags are already packed.”

    As Nils Parker pointed out on the Daily Dad podcast: “The suitcase is a metaphor. It may have contained clothes, but it was really full of love and faith and limitless support. Valvano’s father was not making a statement about basketball. He wasn’t even telling his son that he expected him to be a great coach. What he was saying was much simpler, much more visceral. He was saying, I believe in you. He was saying, I support you. No matter what it is you want to do, or where life pulls you, I will be there for you.”

Be joyful and celebrate your gifts,

Matthew