Derek Sivers podcast

I have so much more to say on this subject, but this book is done now because I believe short books are useful. So the conversation continues on the website: sive.rs/u There you will find more thoughts and stories around “Useful Not True”. Please email me any questions or thoughts. I reply to every one. Go to: sive.rs/contact To share my books with others, get them directly from me with quantity discounts, at: sivers.com I hope you found this book useful, not true. —— Derek Sivers New Zealand June 2024 (Saturday, winter)

For the last three years, my boy and I have had a pet mouse. We got her from a pet store, and he’s carried her in his hand through so many adventures in forests, beaches, and playgrounds. She sat on many little handmade boats down the creeks of New Zealand. Sand castles and Lego houses built just for her. Drawings and stories for and about her. You’ve never seen a mouse so loved. The past six months, she’s been next to me on my desk, twelve hours a day, as I wrote this book. Moving slower and wobbling, looking like she’s in pain. This week, she kept falling over when trying to eat. Thirty minutes ago, she died. I’m surprised how much I’ve been crying. As soon as she died, she looked at peace for the first time in months. It led to a thought that seems like a nice end to this book, and gives it extra meaning for me. Heaven is such a useful reframing. Maybe it’s the original reframing. Death can be terrifying or devastating, so no wonder every culture found a way to reframe it. Some people avoid loving pets or even people, because they’re scared of the eventual heartbreak and loss. But avoiding sadness is like listening to music with only major chords. The minor chords are so beautiful. I’m crying, but isn’t that wonderful? It’s a part of a rich life. And even that is reframing. It’s a useful belief that has helped me love people and pets, again and again.

Your outside doesn’t need to match your inside. You can feel terrified inside, but just pretend to be brave for one minute. By doing that, you were actually brave. You might be a total introvert, but need to attend an event, so you act social for one hour. By pretending to be social, you were. You can imitate your role model. Many top performers have an alter ego — a Jekyll to their Hyde or vice-versa — a side of themselves they personify and bring out when needed. It’s not Maria who negotiates. It’s El Tigre. I wasn’t usually in the mood to be a good dad. But knowing how important it is, I’d collect my strength and do the right thing for a few minutes or hours — a short burst of being who my boy needed me to be. After years of that, we have an amazing relationship, and he tells everyone he has the best dad ever. You are your actions. Your actions are you. Your self-image doesn’t matter as much. When you realize what you need to do, it doesn’t mean that’s who you need to be. You can just pretend.

When I got my first guitar, the nice man at the shop put on new strings and tuned it. A week later, I brought it back to the shop because it sounded terrible. He told me it was just out of tune. I said, “But you tuned it already!” He explained that I constantly have to re-tune it every time I play. Same with adopting a new mindset. Every week, back in the journal, reflecting, talking with friends, and making adjustments. Sometimes you need to stick to the plan exactly, and only adjust your thoughts. Sometimes you need to update the plan. Use your wisdom to decide. Don’t be discouraged when you get off course. A big benefit of keeping a journal is that you can go back and review it, to remind yourself what you’re doing and why.

I spent basically my whole life in America, and had no desire to travel or be anywhere else. But one day I was thinking about growing older, and how people get stuck in their ways as they age. I thought what a learning experience it would be to move somewhere far away — somewhere that surprises me every day. Doing that often would be great for my brain. The more I wrote about it in my journal, the more I felt it matched my values. So, out of curiosity, I looked up the price of a flight to London. I picked a random departure date four months away, and a return date six months after that. It was only $400 round trip — a crazy sale price too good to miss. So without hesitation, I typed in my credit card and booked it. It took a few seconds to realize what I’d done. I just committed to moving to London for six months. Whoa. Four years later, I was living in Singapore, had a baby with a woman from India, and moved to New Zealand to raise him. I’m a citizen of three countries now, and deeply happy with my life. I think of the impact of impulsively booking that flight. On the other hand, there were many times where I thought I wanted something — in theory — then took the first step, and realized I was wrong. Taking action tests your thought in reality. Here’s a good rule from experience: If you’re considering something destructive — that would hurt someone or yourself — be very reluctant, keeping all other options in mind for some time. But for anything else, take the first step immediately, without hesitation. Start momentum.

No matter what choice you make, someone will tell you it’s wrong. It’s wrong because it’s not what they would have chosen. It’s not what they need. It’s not the choice of other people they know. It’s not what an expert recommends. The prosecution rests their case. You might feel a need to defend it, or argue why you’re right. Don’t bother. It’s not for them, or anyone else. It’s not even for your future or past. It’s only for you, and only for now. Your choice helps you do what you need to do, be who you want to be, or feel at peace. It improves your current actions. That’s enough. No need to argue that it’s true.

After you privately internalize a belief, talk about it with friends. Explaining it to different people helps you refine it. They might see an angle or consequence you hadn’t considered. You hear it for the first time outside your own mind. You’ll hear it sound wrong or right when telling someone else. It feels like an announcement. It helps solidify the decision. You can ask them for help to support your choice, and to hold you to it. We know ourselves through others. If people say you have nice eyes, then you must have nice eyes. When your friends acknowledge your belief and echo it back to you, it really feels like reality.

Once you find a viewpoint you want to adopt, a great tool to internalize it is a private journal. Whether you write, type, or just talk, the point is to fill your mind with this new perspective. Strengthen it by stacking up the reasons why you chose it. “Here’s how this will help me: ____” “Here’s how this will help others: ____” Clarify it by defining it so simply that it’s easy to remember. “Here’s how I’d explain it to a stranger in ten seconds: ____” Plan it with a specific list of actions. Picture the changes vividly. Describe your new self-identity and its implications. Prepare for setbacks. Outsmart your future self that will try to revert to your old mindset. Trick the trickster in advance. Come back and review your journal often, so you can remind yourself of your decision, reasons, vision, and plan.

You load the program into the computer, and it begins its calculations. It’s computing. It’s working hard, and it’s going to take some time. If you interrupt it with new instructions, it has to begin all over again, because the parameters have changed. If you keep giving it new information, it will never finish its job. People who tell me they are lost and running in circles have one thing in common: They say they keep listening to podcasts, reading books, watching videos, doing courses — taking in more and more information — and still don’t know what to do. Consider the computer metaphor for yourself. You’ve taken in so much information, and heard so many instructions. That’s enough input. It’s time for output. Run the program. Stop interrupting yourself with new information. Let yourself execute one plan of action, and see it through to fruition.

Picture the stereotype of an explorer, hundreds of years ago, on an expedition to uncharted lands. The explorer tries everything. Up that river. Down that valley. Into every inlet. The explorer finds a nice harbor that would make a great port, and notifies the queen. The queen appoints a captain to lead people to this new place. The leader is focused entirely on this destination. “Here’s where we’re going. Here’s why. Here’s how. Let’s go.” The leader describes the plan clearly and simply so it’s easy to understand and repeat. The leader goes in a straight line, obstinate and undistracted. If a storm sends the ship off course, it gets back on course. If you tried to suggest, halfway there, “What if we tried somewhere else, instead?”, the leader would ignore you. This is a metaphor for two sides of yourself. When making a change in your life or your mind, you start by exploring. You take in tons of information, and keep searching for different perspectives. Eventually, you don’t need more information or time. You’ve found some good options. You need to decide. You need to switch from explorer to leader — to leading yourself. Stop considering other viewpoints. Stop changing the course. Pick a destination and cut off other options. “Here’s where I’m going. Here’s why. Here’s how. Let’s go.” Describe the plan clearly and simply so it’s easy to remember. Go in a straight line, obstinate and undistractable. Ignore that explorer inside of you that says, “What if I tried something else, instead?” You can go back to exploring after you arrive at your destination.