Every election season, someone inevitably says it.

“Government should be run like a business.”

It sounds reasonable. Businesses are efficient. They’re “accountable.” They know how to cut costs and maximize returns. Why shouldn’t government operate the same way?

Then we get what we asked for. And we’re horrified.

When Government Acts Like Business

The Trump administration’s fiscal year 2027 budget proposal includes massive cuts to domestic programs. Defense spending would increase by more than 40%, while nondefense spending would be slashed by 10%: a $73 billion cut affecting housing, social services, health care, and other domestic programs.1

Housing assistance would be reduced by $26.7 billion, a 43% cut affecting programs that serve approximately 2.3 million extremely low-income families.2 WIC, the nutrition program for pregnant women and young children, would see cuts that slash the monthly fruit and vegetable benefit from $26 for children to $10, and from $47-$52 to $13 for adults.3 The Low-Income Home Energy Assistance Program, serving millions, would be eliminated entirely.4

People are aggrieved by this. They should be. These cuts put lives at risk.

But here’s the irony: this is exactly what businesses do. And we celebrate them for it.

The Double Standard

In 2025 and 2026, tech companies have laid off workers at an extraordinary clip. Amazon eliminated 30,184 employees across 2025 and 2026, Intel cut 27,058, and Microsoft laid off 15,347.5 At least 127,000 workers at US-based tech companies were laid off in 2025 alone.6

Nestlé announced it would cut 16,000 jobs. Meta laid off thousands across multiple divisions. Block cut 4,000 employees, 40% of its workforce, in a single move.7

These are businesses being run like businesses. Cutting costs. Maximizing efficiency. Reallocating resources toward AI and away from human labor.

No one calls this a scandal. It’s just business.

But when government does it, when it operates with the same ruthless efficiency we demand from the private sector, we call it cruel.

We can’t have it both ways.

Subscribe now

The Numbers Don’t Lie

Let me show you what we’re actually comparing.

Walmart is the largest company in the United States by headcount. Globally, it employs 2.1 million people.8 In the US alone, that’s 1.6 million workers.

The federal government employs 4.3 million people when you include civilian workers, military personnel, and reserves.9 That’s twice the size of Walmart.

Add in state and local governments, and you’re at 19.9 million employees.10 Combined, the total government workforce in the United States is 24.2 million people.

That’s 11.5 times larger than Walmart.

When Amazon cuts 16,000 jobs, it’s restructuring. When government cuts programs serving 2.3 million families, it’s “efficiency.”

The scale isn’t even comparable. And the stakes are fundamentally different.

What Scale Actually Means

Walmart optimizes for shareholders. Government balances national security, public health, infrastructure, education, justice, environmental protection, and welfare programs simultaneously.

Walmart can exit unprofitable markets. Government has to serve everyone, everywhere, regardless of cost-effectiveness.

Walmart fires unprofitable customers. Government cannot refuse service to difficult populations, as much as they may try.

When businesses lay off 30,000 people, they’re applauded for being lean. When government proposes cutting programs that serve millions, we call it inhumane.

Both things can’t be true.

The Efficiency Trap

Businesses measure success by revenue per employee. Walmart generates roughly $305,000 in revenue per employee. Amazon generates $530,000. Tech companies like NVIDIA generate over $4 million per employee.11

Government has no equivalent metric.

You can’t measure the Department of Veterans Affairs by revenue per employee. You can’t evaluate the efficacy of WIC by profit margin. The Coast Guard doesn’t generate shareholder value.

The work of government is to provide services that markets won’t, to populations that markets ignore, in geographies that markets abandon.

That’s not inefficiency. That’s the mission.

And when you cut that mission in the name of running government like a business, you’re not optimizing. You’re abandoning people.

California and the Illusion of Comparison

Let’s make this concrete. I live in California.

California has a population of 39.4 million people.12 The federal government employs roughly 150,000 people in California.13 That’s a ratio of one federal employee for every 263 residents.

If California were a company managing a customer base of 39.4 million people, it would need to deliver services at a scale 19 times larger than Walmart’s total global operations, but with only 6% of Walmart’s workforce.

That’s the operational reality of government. It’s not bloated. It’s structurally constrained by the scale of what it’s being asked to do.

The Fortune 500 Context

The entire Fortune 500 employs roughly 31 million people.14 The total government workforce in the United States is 24.2 million.

Government represents 78% of the Fortune 500’s combined workforce.

And unlike those companies, government can’t exit markets, refuse customers, or optimize for profit. It has to show up everywhere, for everyone, all the time.

When businesses cut jobs, they’re restructuring toward profitability. When government cuts programs, it’s abandoning the people it was designed to serve.

The Real Question

I’m not saying government is perfect. Far from it. There is waste. There is inefficiency. There are systems that need reform.

But the solution isn’t to make government more like Walmart.

Because when government acts like Walmart, when it cuts programs, eliminates services, and optimizes for “efficiency,” real people suffer.

Businesses laying off 20,000 to 30,000 people at a clip is just Tuesday. The Trump Administration’s proposal to cut housing assistance for 2.3 million families is a crisis.

We can’t demand that government operate like a business and then be shocked when it does exactly what businesses do: prioritize the bottom line over people.

The question isn’t whether government should be run like a business.

The question is whether we understand what government is actually for.

Businesses exist to generate profit. Government exists to provide stability, security, and services that markets cannot or will not deliver.

Scale matters. Mission matters. Context matters.

And the numbers make it clear: government and business aren’t even playing the same game.

About the author: Aaron is a writer, preacher, and community builder based in Los Angeles. He works in customer success by day and spends his free time thinking about intentionality, analog living, and the structures that shape our lives. This newsletter is where he thinks out loud.

"Nothing is harder to do than nothing. In a world where our value is determined by our productivity, many of us find our every last minute captured, optimized, or appropriated as a financial resource by the technologies we use daily."
— Jenny Odell, How to Do Nothing (via Goodreads)

To be alive is to be online.

Disengaging from social media and the internet feels courageous, yet we simultaneously feel as though we are erasing some essential part of ourselves by simply choosing to disconnect.

The greatest hoodwink of our time has come from social media, convincing us that the best way to communicate with the people in our lives is remotely, at a distance, through a screen.

My relationship with social media began 21 years ago in 2005 on MySpace, and as a student at one of the first non-Ivy League schools to gain access to The Facebook. I spent hours online finding friends and schoolmates to “connect” with after graduating from high school, which created a chasm between us. I clamored to close the distance.

As a member of this first digitally connected generation, we were sold on the idea that the easiest way to stay connected was simply to monitor each other’s activity through a surveillance mechanism dressed up as an algorithm. That mechanism was then turned against us through advertising.

"The villain here is not necessarily the Internet, or even the idea of social media; it is the invasive logic of commercial social media and its financial incentive to keep us in a profitable state of anxiety, envy, and distraction."
— Jenny Odell, How to Do Nothing (via Goodreads)

We trained a generation, starting with mine, to seek connection with high school friends who went off to college, to stay in touch simply because we could. But the bonds of those relationships frayed.

Meanwhile, all of business migrated into the digital landscape. That migration accelerated Amazon's rise, created demand for always-on devices, and normalized the expectation of instant access.

Everything flows from the generation that built Facebook: the ones who leaned into technology, who wanted to connect more deeply, send gifts remotely, and have everything delivered conveniently. Friendships at the click of a mouse. Diapers at the click of a button. Odd trinkets from overseas arrive within a day or two, never more than that, or we get irate.

That was what this generation craved, because social media had conditioned us into a collective that desired instantaneous gratification through digital engagement.

"Platforms such as Facebook and Instagram act like dams that capitalize on our natural interest in others and an ageless need for community, hijacking and frustrating our most innate desires, and profiting from them."
— Jenny Odell, How to Do Nothing (via Goodreads)

And yet, we are now faced with the next generation, our children, who want analog.

They want the warmth and texture of photographs taken with film and disposable cameras. They want to journal. They want curricula free from electronic entanglement.

"The convenience of limitless connectivity has neatly paved over the nuances of in-person conversation, cutting away so much information and context in the process."
— Jenny Odell, How to Do Nothing (via Goodreads)

This is what the future portends.

Community is built on intentionality, not on digital architecture.

About the author: Aaron Spence is a writer, preacher, and community builder based in Los Angeles. He thinks deeply about connection, intentionality, and what it means to live a deliberate life in an age designed to distract. This newsletter is his attempt to think out loud, one post at a time.

Welcome to my FIRST installment in my examination of the mundane made meaningful.

This series delves into what I actually use day to day.

We’ll be exploring a few key areas of my life, with links to a lot of the products and methods ot how I use this. This will include: how I take care of myself (personal care), what helps me get work done as someone navigating ADHD (productivity tools), how I manage my mental health and Christian journey (faith and spirituality), my approach to physical health, and the systems I use to nurture relationships.

Today, we're contemplating credit cards, a brief meditation on the modern absurdity of optimizing financial instruments while pretending it's not just elaborate consumerism.

Obligatory transparency moment: The links below are referral links. If you click through and apply, I receive some form of compensation. Your terms remain unchanged, but my mortgage appreciates your consideration. We're all just trying to make it through capitalism together.

In my ongoing attempt to reconcile philosophical contemplation with practical living, I've arrived at what can only be described as a credit card strategy. Four pieces of plastic, each serving a distinct purpose in the theater of modern spending. Whether this represents optimization or elaborate self-deception remains an open question.

The Financial Foundation: Copilot Money

Before diving into the plastic, a word about the system that makes all this credit card choreography meaningful. My wife and I use Copilot Money to manage our household budget and finances (use referral code DRKRYW for 2 months free).

Without a clear view of our actual spending patterns and financial goals, credit card optimization becomes an elaborate form of financial theater. Copilot helps us understand where our money actually goes, which makes the strategic use of different cards feel less like an elaborate rationalization and more like an intentional choice.

The AMEX Platinum: An Exercise in Justified Excess

Referral Link

This card serves as my travel confessor, absorbing every flight, hotel, and rental car charge with the solemnity of expensive metal. The annual fee is obscene, naturally, but I've convinced myself it's justified through a careful dance of credit utilization:

• Saks credits become holiday gifts (because nothing says "I love you" like a department store credit)

• Digital subscription reimbursements cover NYTimes and Spotify (the modern utilities)

• Walmart+ membership (suburban surrender, complete)

• Resy Global Access for those date nights and necessary work meals

I strategically deployed this card for our new home appliances. This was a calculated move to hit the welcome bonus while furnishing our domestic monastery. The 5x points on travel feel almost generous until you remember they're essentially giving you back your own money, ever so slowly.

The Chase Sapphire Preferred: The Reliable Workhorse

Referral Link

My daily driver, this card handles the mundane reality of personal spending. While others chase category bonuses with spreadsheet precision, I've embraced the simplicity of one card for everything non-travel. Their point offerings create just enough value to feel smart without requiring a PhD in rewards optimization.

Sometimes the most profound choice is the boring one.

The Delta Reserve AMEX: The Art of Separation

Referral Link

Why two travel cards? Because work travel exists in its own moral universe, requiring its own financial container. Every work-related expense, flights, meals, hotels, and the inevitable airport coffee, goes here. This creates a clear separation between personal and professional spending, making expense reports less burdensome.

Combined with the Platinum, I've achieved what can only be described as lounge ubiquity. Whether this represents peak privilege or peak absurdity depends on your philosophical framework.

The Apple Card: Ecosystem Surrender

Referral Link

Used exclusively for Apple subscriptions and device purchases, this card represents my complete capitulation to the ecosystem. No rewards optimization here. Just a clean integration of paying Apple with Apple's own card. Sometimes surrender brings its own form of peace.

The Deeper Question

Four cards. Four purposes. Each represents a different aspect of how we've organized modern life around the movement of money. Whether this represents optimization or elaborate rationalization of consumer behavior remains delightfully unclear.

What's certain is that each card serves as a small boundary in the otherwise boundless flow of spending—creating just enough friction to force intentionality, even if that intention is simply "which piece of plastic do I use for this particular form of commerce?"

The Aaronists among you will recognize this as yet another example of finding philosophy in the mundane. The rest of you might just want the referral links.

Either way, we're all here contemplating the same questions: How do we move through a system designed to extract value while maintaining some semblance of intentionality? How do we optimize without losing our souls to optimization itself?

I don't have answers. I just have four carefully chosen pieces of plastic and the vague sense that I've thought about this more than is strictly necessary.

Questions for contemplation: What do your spending patterns reveal about your values? Is there such a thing as ethical consumption under capitalism? And why do we find comfort in organizing our financial chaos into neat categories?

Let me know in the comments which rabbit holes you've fallen down in the name of "optimization."

In this intimate and unfiltered episode, our host shares a deeply personal journey of self-discovery, moving homes, career transitions, and most importantly—learning to embrace rest as a form of resistance against grind culture. Speaking from their new office in Compton, California, they explore how understanding their ADHD has transformed their relationship with productivity, creativity, and rest.

Key Topics Covered

• Life Transitions & New Beginnings

  • Moving to Compton, California and building community

  • Career shift from management to individual contributor role

  • Approaching 40 and two-year wedding anniversary reflections

• ADHD Discovery & Self-Understanding

  • Energy peaks and slumps as natural brain patterns

  • 30+ years of fighting against natural inclinations to rest

  • Reframing "symptoms" as helpful signals from the body

• The Philosophy of Rest as Resistance

  • Tricia Hersey's "Rest is Resistance" and "We Will Rest"

  • Historical context: Black bodies resting at Martha's Vineyard during civil rights era

  • Challenging the demonization of relaxation in society

• Practical Rest Implementation

  • Simple moments: porch sitting, tea drinking, people watching

  • Learning to enjoy life as it is, not rushing to the next thing

  • Finding creativity through low-barrier activities like spontaneous recording

Key Quotes

• "You cannot be creative if you don't rest. You cannot have new energy if you don't rest."

• "Wonder Woman is not coming to save you. It is time to reimagine what life looks like and get rest."

• "My desire to relax is helping a lot of other people."

Resources Mentioned

• "Rest is Resistance" by Tricia Hersey

• "We Will Rest" by Tricia Hersey

• Martha's Vineyard/Oak Bluffs as historical Black haven

Takeaways

This episode challenges listeners to reconsider their relationship with rest, productivity, and self-care. It offers a fresh perspective on ADHD as a different way of processing energy rather than a deficit, and encourages embracing natural rhythms instead of fighting against them.

Next episode timing: Aiming for weekly consistency, but "you'll get it when you get it"—a perfect embodiment of the rest-first philosophy discussed.

The Proust Questionnaire has been a parlor game favorite since the 19th century, designed to reveal the inner workings of its participants through a series of deceptively simple questions. Marcel Proust himself answered variations of these questions twice in his lifetime, and the contradictions between his responses say as much about human nature as the answers themselves.

In the spirit of the vulnerability I've been advocating for in this space, I decided to subject myself to the same scrutiny. What follows is my attempt at honest self-examination – the good, the uncomfortable, and the slightly ridiculous (yes, that Al Roker comment requires explanation, but you'll have to ask me directly). Consider this both confession and invitation: these are the kinds of questions that reveal not just who we are, but who we're becoming.

Personal Qualities & Ideals

• What is your idea of perfect happiness? Relaxing on the beach with my wife, listening to the waves crash and the sound of our loved ones frolicking around us

• What is your greatest fear? Not being able to take care of myself when I'm older.

• What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? Not asking for help when needed.

• What is the trait you most deplore in others? Lack of self-awareness.

• Which living person do you most admire? My mother.

• What is your greatest extravagance? Luxury experiences and fountain pens.

Preferences & Tastes

• What is your current state of mind? Relaxed.

• What do you consider the most overrated virtue? Stoicism.

• On what occasion do you lie? When I meet an ugly baby.

• What do you most dislike about your appearance? My belly

• Which living person do you most despise? Al Roker (don't ask!)

• What is the quality you most like in a man? Vulnerability.

• What is the quality you most like in a woman? Vulnerability.

Life Philosophy

• Which words or phrases do you most overuse? "Like" and "radar."

• What or who is the greatest love of your life? God, followed by my wife.

• When and where were you happiest? Recently, camping in Malibu with my wife and dogs.

• Which talent would you most like to have? The ability to sing.

• If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Being better about staying in contact with friends and family.

• What do you consider your greatest achievement? Persevering.

• If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be? A person. Preferably, a member of the House of Lords.

Final Reflections

• Where would you most like to live? London.

• What is your most treasured possession? My mother's fountain pen from when she was in school in the 1960s.

• What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? Lack of community.

• What is your favorite occupation? Detective.

• What is your most marked characteristic? My boisterous laugh.

• What do you most value in your friends? Their presence.

• Who are your favorite writers? Tim O'Brien, Kurt Vonnegut, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Percival Everett.

• Who is your hero of fiction? William Stoner (Stoner by John Williams)

• Which historical figure do you most identify with? John Adams

• Who are your heroes in real life? My mother, the late Clarence Norman, and the late Desmond Tutu.

• What are your favorite names? Alexander and Naomi.

• What is it you most dislike? A bad meal.

• What is your greatest regret? Not learning about my ADHD diagnosis earlier.

• How would you like to die? With loved ones around me.

• What is your motto? "Every day preach and teach the Gospel, and if you have to, use words."

A New York Times article is making its rounds through corporate America, infiltrating Zoom rooms, board rooms, and living rooms with the familiar promise of transformation. The talking points are predictable: AI will let businesses create faster, run leaner, scale infinitely. They hold up Gamma – a slide deck builder with 50 million users managed by just 28 employees – as proof of concept.

Impressive? Perhaps. Revolutionary? Hardly.

The irony is that while everyone's celebrating these "decent but not great" products as paradigm shifts, they're missing the most obvious pattern: AI is nothing but outsourcing in a digital wrapper.

History Doesn't Repeat, But It Rhymes

We've been here before. Multiple times.

• Pre-industrial revolution: Work outsourced to enslaved humans.

• Post-Civil War: Indentured servants became the preferred labor model.

• Early 20th century: Assembly lines filled with unskilled, regimented workers.

• Late 20th/early 21st century: Manufacturing shipped to developing countries with lower wages.

• Now: Replace overseas knowledge workers with AI.

The through-line? It's always been about lowest cost. Every time. Quality? Secondary. Human dignity? An afterthought.

Read more

The gap between my last post and today isn't just a pause in writing – it's been a period of profound personal discovery. While establishing my voice here has been important, something more fundamental demanded my attention.

First, let me dispel any dramatic concerns: I'm healthy, my marriage is solid, and there are no major life changes like children on the horizon. What I've encountered is both more subtle and more transformative.

A Revelation in Three Acts

Act One began with year-end conversations—with my mentor, my direct manager, and former colleagues. We discussed career trajectories and performance, but something felt off. The mental clarity I'd always relied on seemed to be playing hide-and-seek.

Act Two found me in my therapist's virtual office, initially attributing these challenges to long COVID or the approaching milestone of 40 (an age where every minor discomfort becomes cause for a doctor's visit). His suggestion to consult both a psychiatrist and neurologist led to Act Three:

A diagnosis of ADHD.

The Initial Shock

I was, to put it mildly, gobsmacked. The image in my head of someone with ADHD didn't align with my self-perception. Yet over these past few weeks, initial disbelief has transformed into something approaching enlightenment.

Suddenly, the puzzle pieces of my life began clicking into place. My approaches to work, relationships, and daily challenges started making sense in a new light. I even found evidence in an old "How to Work with Me" document I'd written – breadcrumbs I'd left for myself without realizing their significance.

Finding Community

In this discovery, I've found something unexpected: community. There's a remarkable collection of brilliant minds who, like me, have struggled to fit into society's preference for conformity and homogeneity. Their stories, achievements, and challenges mirror my own in ways that feel both validating and inspiring.

A Note of Gratitude

Thank you for holding this space during my silence. Your presence here means more than you know. There's much more to explore about this journey – about neurodiversity, about the gifts and challenges of minds that work differently, about finding strength in our unique ways of being.

But for now, I've probably "ADHD'd" enough for one post. More to come, with clearer purpose and deeper understanding than before.

With renewed clarity,

Aaron

Books // Reviews

On StoryGraph, my reviews will feature more in-depth assessments and ratings. Here are the books that I took down in February in no particular order:

1. Gather Me: A Memoir in Praise of the Books That Saved Me ★★★★★

2. On Nobody Famous: Guesting, Gossiping, Gallivanting ★★☆☆☆

3. The Finnish Way: Finding Courage, Wellness, and Happiness Through the Power of Sisu ★★★☆☆

4. Now It All Makes Sense: How an ADHD Diagnosis Brought Clarity to My Life ★★★★☆

5. How to Thrive with Adult ADHD: The 7-Pillar Plan for Focus, Productivity and Joy ★★★☆☆

Vibes // Yola

My journey with Yola’s genre-bending, soulful sound began during the toughest times of the pandemic. I found myself taking long 4-mile walks through the city, craving fresh air to clear out the stale atmosphere at home. It was during one of these walks that my wonderful friend Ivey introduced me to Yola, and I was instantly captivated.

Throughout 2020 and 2021, her album "Walk Through Fire" became my absolute favorite, and I played "Ride Out In The Country” on repeat. I’ve been revisiting this album again and again this month.

I really hope you get a chance to enjoy this track with the windows down on those lovely, longer days ahead!

A Note on Black History Month

February stands as a sacred season in Black culture - a time when we fully embrace our right to celebrate, honor, and grapple with the legacy of those who came before us, setting our course toward new horizons.

As the ancient Kenyan proverb reminds us: "Sticks in a bundle are unbreakable, but sticks alone can be broken by a child." This wisdom echoes through generations, teaching us the power of unity.

While recent political events have flooded our spaces with divisive rhetoric and imagery, I choose a different path forward. Rather than amplifying voices of supremacy or engaging in endless debates about societal ills, I'm directing my energy toward what truly sustains us: community building.

My commitment lies in honoring those who have nurtured my growth and finding new ways to lift others up. This isn't just an idealistic choice - it's a matter of survival. Our strength, like those bundled sticks, comes from standing together, supporting one another, and building connections that cannot be broken.

This path forward isn't just morally right - it's vital to our very existence. Community isn't just something we build; it's the foundation that keeps us standing.

Happy Black History Month.

Thoughts // Introspective Renewal

Every January, I notice a pattern in my reading choices. I gravitate toward books that challenge my mindset - ones that hold up a mirror and force me to examine myself honestly and productively. While I end each December brimming with thoughts, goals, and ambitions, January brings me face-to-face with a harder truth: I haven't accomplished nearly as much as I'd envisioned. The weight didn't melt away, my reading list remains daunting, my work impact feels smaller than hoped, and my prayer life and faith practice aren't quite what I pictured.

The beautiful irony? I repeat this cycle every year because I'm not realistic with myself. My goals often lack grounding in reality. I consistently underestimate life's natural ebbs and flows. If I'm truly honest, many of these targets are mere vanity metrics—checkboxes that let me feel like I'm "moving the needle" forward without creating real meaning.

Thank you for sitting with my vulnerability here, but I suspect I'm not alone. We all set goals that look good on paper but ultimately serve as arbitrary scorecards rather than pathways to a richer life. We rarely craft goals that help us live deeper, more meaningful days.

This is my January revelation, and it grounds me. It teaches me to actively forgive myself and recognize that imperfection isn't just acceptable - it's the essence of being human. That's where the magic lives. The grace, mercy, and love we so readily extend to others should flow back to ourselves when we face our perceived shortcomings. Perhaps they aren't truly falling short; perhaps the goals simply didn't serve the authentic person we aspire to be each day.

The authentic person is a striver—someone who wants to add value to this life. But what does that really mean?

Simply put, it means impacting people positively. That's it.

For me, early January is a sacred time to process these feelings and recalibrate how I want to impact others this year. I'll probably still set some unrealistic targets and feel frustrated when I fall short, but I'm working to create what matters most: a human-centered framework for my life and aspirations.

I don't really want a six-pack. I want to play with my grandkids and romp around with friends. I want to love my wife with full presence. I want to provide for my family and share resources with friends so we can all pause to bask in life's warm glow together. I want my faith to be more genuine and honest in practice. I want to grant myself grace when I stumble while holding myself accountable, ensuring my shortcomings don't harm others.

Books // Reviews

On StoryGraph, my reviews will feature more in-depth assessments and ratings. Each month, you’ll find a score out of 5 stars, along with links to purchase through Bookshop. Here are the books that kicked off my year:

1. The 5 Resets: Rewire Your Brain and Body for Less Stress and More Resilience by Aditi Nerurkar ★★★★☆

2. Drinking Games: A Memoir by Sarah Levy ★★★★☆

3. Citizen: My Life After the White House by Bill Clinton ★★★☆☆

4. The Little Book of Hygge: The Danish Way to Live Well by Meik Wiking ★★★★☆

5. The Thinking Heart: Essays on Israel and Palestine by David Grossman ★★★★☆

6. The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World by Robin Wall Kimmerer ★★★★☆

Vibes // WSID

WSID: The Sid Mashburn Radio Show - Ep. 52

We've got clothing shops, but we also love music, so we started a vinyl-only radio show on Atlanta’s Voice of the Arts, AM 1690.

WSID was a charming vinyl-only radio program hosted by the gifted menswear designer Sid Mashburn, broadcast on Atlanta's Voice of the Arts, AM 1690. For two fantastic years, fans tuned in every Wednesday night. Sadly, when the radio station ceased operations, it halted the production of new episodes, leaving behind cherished memories for everyone involved. I love revisiting these episodes from time to time, and this month, I’ve been listening to this particular episode more frequently.

Until next time — AMS

TL;DR: ★★★★★ - Worth the rush to read about not rushing.

In an era where "busy" has become our default state of being, John Mark Comer's "The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry" arrives with all the subtlety of a meditation bell in the New York Stock Exchange.

The irony isn't lost on me: another book about slowing down, likely to be devoured in rushed fragments between client meetings and dog walks. Yet Comer's message cuts through our productivity-obsessed culture with unsettling precision.

"Hurry is not just a disordered schedule. Hurry is a disordered heart," he writes, a diagnosis that feels uncomfortably accurate for anyone who's ever checked Slack while pretending to be present on their evening walk with the dogs through Silver Lake. Our perpetual rush, Comer argues, isn't merely poor time management—it's a spiritual malady.

The book's central thesis hits hardest when he quotes Dallas Willard: "The number one enemy of spiritual life is hurry." It's a bold claim to contemplate from my hillside apartment in Echo Park, where the city's relentless energy pulses below and "hustle culture" has achieved almost religious status. But Comer builds his case methodically, demonstrating how our frantic pace erodes not just our peace but our very capacity for joy.

"Hurry is incompatible with love," he asserts, and suddenly, all those rushed goodbyes and half-heard conversations with my partner take on a weightier significance. We're not just busy; we're bankrupting our souls in the currency of unchecked calendars and endless to-do lists.

Perhaps most subversive is Comer's insistence on Sabbath-keeping—a practice that feels almost rebellious in our "rise and grind" culture. "The root of hurry is an inability to trust God and be with God," he observes, challenging our deeply held belief that everything depends on our constant motion.

Is this just another self-help tome destined for the graveyard of good intentions? Maybe. But there's something compelling about Comer's vision of a life unshackled from the tyranny of hurry. When he writes, "Hurry is violence to the soul," it's hard to dismiss the cost of our collective frenzy.

The response to this newsletter has been both humbling and slightly terrifying - exactly the kind of tension that suggests we're onto something worthwhile.

Special recognition to our first Aaronist, Jimmy P. Your long-standing support of my creative endeavors makes you the perfect founding member. Mark your calendars - Jimmy will be our inaugural AMA guest, bringing his unique perspective to our growing community.

A deep nod to Will S., co-founder of Than Before Fitness Gym in Philadelphia, our first Monthly subscriber. The fact that someone dedicated to physical improvement sees value in this intellectual journey feels particularly fitting.

And Alyssa O. - from enduring my collegiate philosophical ramblings to supporting this new venture. Your presence here suggests either remarkable loyalty or a fascinating case study of Stockholm syndrome.

Now, a question for all of you: What should be our first deep dive? I'm considering:

Your input will help shape our initial direction. The first newsletter goes out on Sunday, 26 January 2025.

In contemplation,

Aaron

P.S. For those wondering about the name "Aaronist" - yes, it's slightly cultish. No, we won't be drinking any suspicious Kool-Aid.

Highlights

☕ I read the most in the afternoon

💌 I subscribed to 13 new Substacks

📽️ I watched 2 minutes of video

❤️ I liked 10 posts

📜 I scrolled 2 meters in Notes

Top Substacks

Gathered by Gabrielle Eitienne

An intuitive Cooking Club and Newsletter

Top post this summer: Why Thoughtful Cooks Never go Hungry, well mostly.

Violet’s Substack by Violet Witchel

Recipes, meal plans, shopping lists, and more for your food inspiration and organization.

Top post this summer: Grilled Chipotle Chicken and Corn Dense Bean Salad

Museletters by Josh Radnor

A respite from the chaos of modern life. A campfire of wisdom, story, song, & timeless truths.

Top post this summer: RESILIENCE, CONTENTMENT, & TIMELESS TRUTHS

Share your own Summer Recap

You can see your own summer recap in the Substack app. I’d love to see what you’ve been reading.

Get my Recap

Therefore, I need more. I’m heading into Q3 and need your recommendations! Submit them through the form below.

Click here for form.

Read more

Are you claiming to have found the BEST book of 2023 already? Really, Aaron? Won’t you give the highly anticipated releases due in November a chance?

Well. No.

Read more

I can't believe it's already the end of the year! Time flies, doesn't it?

As we wrap up another year and look forward to the new one, I wanted to take a moment to wish you all a Merry Christmas and a …

Read more

Read more

You don’t have to spend a significant amount of time with me to observe that I’m first and foremost a contemplative person. Outwardly, I may share initial excitement over an idea or the dream of a fu…

Read more

Read more

I’m a Philadelphia native who relocated to Phoenix, AZ in Sept. 2021. I’m in discovery mode and want to share my observations of the world around me.

Read more