Author: tworuru

The other day, while playing the famously egalitarian game of “golf” with one of my CEO buddies, we had a completely normal conversation, as humans often do. This being That Time Of Year, the topic of New Year’s resolutions came up. I was all ready with an almost titularly cynical spiel about how everyone thinks NY resolutions never work when my friend said something jaw-dropping (doctors hate him.)

The previous year, he’d made a resolution to learn conversational Chinese… and he’d actually done it.

To be fair, I did not immediately fact-check him on this, as my level of conversational Chinese is zero. He could have said 我不会说中文 and I’d have believed him. I did quiz him a little more about his method, though, as keeping a New Year’s resolution is something I’ve long resolved to eventually do.

It was pretty simple, he said: he had a group chat with some mates. They told each other their (achievable) resolution at the start of the year and checked in on each other throughout.

And they pretty much all achieved it.

That is probably all the information you need to replicate his success for yourself but feel free to keep reading! I suppose I was meant to leave the big secret until the end of the article but I’m just not very good at that kind of bait-posting. Or perhaps there’s more to it. Surely, success can’t be that simple? To find out, I decided to interview him, Diary of a CEO-style, to extract his secrets and sell them to the world like a human Juicero machine.

Interview with a “CEO”

You’re Jamie Moore, world-famous CEO of enigmatic golf company Q. I doubt there’s anything about you that anyone doesn’t know, but just in case something’s slipped through the cracks, tell us a little about yourself.

Sure. For 15ish years I ran website design companies but then in the Covid times I switched career to start a golf product company with my father.

We make an all-in-one adjustable golf club that can be used for every shot – putting, drives, chipping, bunkers etc. It’s fairly early days, but we’ve had some good traction selling them in 55 countries around the world (mainly the US)

Right. Obviously, we are both old, and my memory is failing. Refresh it by reminding me how we know each other?

We attempted law school together and each wisely decided to bail out. Definitely no ragrats here.

While at uni, we bonded over a range of things including the arcade game Dance Dance Revolution, playing pool and hosting a radio show.

Fascinating! Now, Tell me about that New Year’s Resolution accountability scheme you talked about when we played such extraordinary golf on that luxury course the other day.

What a place. Tahuna Golf Course. Home of the legendary 4th hole that is nowhere near the 3rd hole.

Yes, I’m part of a group of friends that for the past 3 years have set New Years resolutions each year… and actually check in on their progress throughout the year!

What did you, personally, achieve (or aim to achieve)?

A couple of my favourites:

• Learned to swim (200m of good freestyle, complete with tumble-turns)
• Learn to like Marmite and Vegemite (one of next year’s goals – backstory: these were my swearing punishment foods growing up so this will take some undoing!)

What were your resolutions for 2024, which is somehow almost over, and how did it go?

• Complete a triathlon (was progressing well, but had some back issues that meant the running was no bueno and had to abort).
• Speak Mandarin Chinese (hard to quantify – which in hindsight was a weakness – but I’d give myself a pass. I’d say I’m now OK at basic conversations on select topics)
• Make a pasta, preserve and pastry from scratch (achieved the first two but not the third)

While not the most stellar success rate this year, the thing that makes it feel like it was a success was the regular discussion and reflection throughout the year.

​What are some of the cool things other people have done?

• Eat at 5 ethnic restaurants you’ve never tried before.
• Run a marathon
• Host a murder mystery night
• Create an original 3-track EP
• Shoot a movie with your family as actors
• Stay a night in a DOC hut
• Create a family photo album

Why do you think doing resolutions this way works?

It’s a good question actually – since I had set goals like this in the past but never lasted beyond Jan.

I think it’s the combination of a few things:

• A ringleader to initiate it
• A group chat where the ringleader asks for updates every month
• The group already knows each other well
• The defined structure: 2x self-imposed goals, 1x goal

But on reflection, the most important factor of all is setting goals that are specific and things you genuinely wish you could achieve.

​Do I have your irrevocable, legally-binding, un-indemnifying permission to ahem utilise this NYE resolution accountability scheme of yours for the betterment of Cynic’s Guide subscribers?

You do.

​What’s your secret?

I quite like the song Lose You To Love Me by Selena Gomez.

(To success, obviously.)

Oh, disregard last answer.
I guess it would be embracing the slow power of compounding returns – when it comes to learning, growing a business, self improvement etc.

​In the unlikely event that there is someone among my subscriber base that does not know about your world-beating, adjustable (and now ultra-portable) Q golf club, please outline the details and any purchasable special offers in the following blank space.

begin pitch
We’ve just started preorders for a second generation of the Q club.
This has an 8-in-1 adjustable club head – and a two-part shaft that means it can fit in a small suitcase.
It’s all about giving golfers a simple and lightweight experience on the course – but also when travelling for golf.
If subscribers are interested, they can learn more at https://q.golf
end pitch

Josh again. So yeah, I think that’s pretty cool! (The New Year’s Resolution thing, although the golf club is also neat.)

In fact, I thought it so cool that Cynic’s Guide readers might like to join in. I’d been wanting to set up a subscriber chat on an app like Discord for a while, and this is the perfect excuse. Plus, I’m interested to see what resolutions people come up with, especially in the bit where they get to pick ideas for other people. I’ve embedded a sign-up form below, but if you can’t see it for some reason, here’s a direct link: New Year’s Resolution Tracking 2025.

The form asks for your email so I can prevent spammers and invite you to the group chat, but seeing as you’re probably reading this newsletter in your email that probably won’t be a problem. As for the resolutions, I’ll start: Mine for this year are:

1. To do a muscle-up (Rating: very hard, and you may recognise this as a previous goal from this newsletter, which I obviously did not achieve. But this year will be my year!)
2. To play the drum part in Toxicity by System of a Down to a reasonable degree of proficiency (Rating: possibly harder. I don’t actually know – drummers, feel free to laugh at me. It’s a fantastic song though, and great for hangovers.)

You don’t, of course, have to do the NY resolution thing! It is completely optional, and if it all seems a bit too non-cynical for you, that’s fine. This might help on that front: if you want to give it a crack but worry that you might find it all a bit much and drop out, no-one else will actually care.

But I’ll venture that people will care if you do achieve your resolution, and that might make it worth trying after all.

It was only a few short months ago, not long after the birth of our second child, that I had the vain – and, in hindsight, very funny – hope that I could continue writing this newsletter during her early infancy.

As it turned out, I could not.

Or perhaps I could have. I dunno. Other writers seem to manage! What I do know is that while I’ve had a whirlwind and often quite wonderful few months taking care of a beautiful new baby, I’ve also never felt more behind on, well, everything.

I might have felt this way when our previous child was this age. Unfortunately, I can’t remember, because sleep deprivation.

(I’d also meant to keep a journal during this time so I’d actually have some memories of it, but my curious aversion to journal-keeping keeps getting in the way.) Anyway, in all honesty, November would have been a hellmonth even if we didn’t have a new arrival. We had family over to stay, which isn’t something we could enjoy when the first kid was born because of that whole global pandemic malarkey. That wasn’t the hellish bit; it was lovely to have them over. The problem was that we began the month by contracting Covid, all together, as a family. Hm. It’s almost like the pandemic isn’t quite over, isn’t it? Someone should look into that.

It was nasty. I feel like I’d have managed the virus better if I’d been able to nurse the thumping headache and weird fatigue by staying in bed and drinking chicken soup, rather than looking after ill children. No sooner were we testing negative than the first tranche of family came to stay, which was (as mentioned) wonderful and life-affirming but didn’t afford any time for recuperation. And once they’d flown the coop I came down with the most vicious, uncompromising strep throat thing I’ve had in living memory. I ran fevers, and a mild inability to climb stairs faster than several minutes at a time, for two days before a dose of antibiotics killed whatever was trying to kill me.

As of the last week or so I’m much better, and the baby (who for the purposes of this newsletter I will name Pandora) is sleeping better. I think one may be linked to the other in some way. That sense of behind-ness, though – it’s never been worse. My work suffered, especially given I’d only just come off paternity leave when I got sick, and I’d just picked up fresh responsibilities in my job. The yard was overwhelmed by waist high grass, the garden got taken over by a Triffid-like mint infestation, the other undone tasks became even undone-er. It did not spark joy. In fact, I kept hearing this unhappy little ditty play in my head:

After some weeks of frantic effort coupled with the rest of the country slowing down somewhat for Christmas, it’s all starting to relent slightly. I feel like I’ve just caught a breath after being held down by crashing waves.

(In what is probably not a coincidence, my wife started reading How To Keep House While Drowning on audiobook around a week ago. A few people here have recommended it so I’m going to pick it up too, and listen to it while I wear the infant around the house like an inconveniently heavy, uncomfortably warm, and incomprehensibly precious jacket. )

With the recap recapped, I want to talk about something that helped pull me out of this especially funky funk.

It is, of course, a self-help book.

I’ve shouted out John Birmhingham, author of He Died With A Felafel In His Hand, a few times in the Cynic’s Guide. He’s long been a favourite writer of mine, since I discovered his oeuvre leafing guiltily through the problematic Ralph magazines I bought in my late teens. I may have purchased them for the pictures, but I did end up reading the articles! Of late, Birmo has written frankly of his own battles with procrastination viz online time-wasting. After this touched a chord with readers of his newsletter, he decided to write an honest-to-god self-help book, which he made free to subscribers for a couple of days as both a kind gift and a clever way to juice Amazon reviews.

And the book, which rejoices in the search-engine-optimised title of “THE COMPLETE BUT LITTLE BOOK ABOUT PROCRASTINATION: A SELF-HELP GUIDE TO BREAKING FREE OF YOUR BS“?

It is fucking great.

Available now at your favorite digital store!

THE COMPLETE BUT LITTLE BOOK ABOUT PROCRASTINATION: A SELF-HELP GUIDE TO BREAKING FREE OF YOUR BS. by John Birmingham

Universal Book Links Help You Find Books at Your Favorite Store!AUTHORS

JB has managed to do what no-other self-help author ever has, in my quite extensive experience: keep it short. The book is a blessed 51 pages long, and it is relatable. If the following passage doesn’t resonate with you, you are reading the wrong newsletter:

You have a problem, but it’s not laziness. [Procrastination] is a human problem. It messes with people no matter their gender, their class, their culture, whatever. We procrastinate about household chores. We put off important personal decisions. We leave our taxes too late. We sit, staring at the blank page, the empty screen, our stomachs churning, our spirits low.

It also hits you – or at least me – right in the fear feels. Procrastinate as we might, there’s an ultimate deadline there’s no getting away from, and after my recent bout of illness this one rang a knell:

I didn’t grow out of it. If you’re reading this, chances are, neither did you. Lying in that bed, a bunch of tubes punched through my ribcage, I suffered the horrifying realisation that comes to all procrastinators in the end. It really was the end. I’d left it too late. There’d be no wriggling out of this.

Drawing on contemporary psychology and techniques like cognitive behavioural therapy, and working with rather than against the fact that his target audience is incredibly likely to put his book down due to a sudden urge to browse the Wikipedia entry on alpacas, Birmingham goes straight for the jugular of procrastination. What is most off-putting about putting things off is that you know it’s illogical and that it will come back to bite you, and the reason for that — Birmingham writes, with plenty of science to back him up – is that procrastination is the all-but-inevitable outcome of emotional dysregulation.

It’s about discomfort.

Imagine I have a big project due in a week. I know I should start, but instead, I find myself cleaning the house, checking emails, or plating up my fourth rewatch of Justified. What the fuck, JB? When I thought about my daunting task, my brain did not get that immediate dopamine kick. In fact, thinking about all that hard work possibly even turned off my dopamine tap and crashed me into a trough—making me feel even less motivated. To escape this uncomfortable feeling, my treacherous brain starts seeking out something, anything, to provide a quick dopamine fix. And here comes my old friend the donut, the doomscroll, the infinite void of streaming TV. Anything feels better than sitting in the discomfort of the work.

The only drawback – and this is not Birmingham’s fault, it’s your neurobiology’s – is that working with the discomfort that gives rise to procrastination is obviously uncomfortable. He offers an admittedly cornball acronym, as is traditional in CBT, to help remember the required steps before tackling a given incidence of procrastination. I am reproducing it here not to try and dick over JB’s book sales but because writing things down is about the only way I remember them.

RULER: Recognise, Understand, Label, Express, Respond.

The way I’ve put this into practice, when facing a potentially delay-able task like “my excellent and usefully bill-paying job” or “writing a catastrophically late newsletter for inexplicably patient subscribers” is to open up a blank, plain-text document and dump whatever mess of emotions I am experiencing in there.

This is all kinds of yuck. Seeing what you’re feeling on the page – often, in my case, self-loathing and shame and anxiety expressed in what can be quite worrying terms – is confronting. The good news is that writing these things down before starting a job feels a bit like procrastination, which is a helpful little hack. And then once I’m done recognising, understanding, labelling, and expressing, I delete the document and it all goes away. Then I respond, by actually doing whatever task my emotional maelstrom was sucking me away from.

It is of course not necessary to do this exercise via the written word: you can do it all in your head. Or perhaps, if you work alone or don’t mind looking like you’re rehearsing a role in Glengarry Glen Ross, you could say it aloud. As with any other self-improvement exercise – say it with me, I’ve written it enough times here – YMMV. Your Mileage May Vary. I suppose I should add the caveat that because everyone is different this method may not work for you at all, but I suspect that it might, and I am very happy because at this point in time it does work for me.

Despite only being 51 pages long, this isn’t all that’s in the book. TCBLBAPASHGTBFOYBS is a dense little nugget, the neutron star of self-help texts. There are plenty more tips and tricks that are only to be deployed once you’ve accepted the inconvenient truth that fixing procrastination very likely requires addressing some emotional dysfunction. But it’s eminently doable, and it’s helped me enormously.

It might do the same for you. It’s worth a punt: the book costs less than the coffee you were probably planning on buying. And if you’re (somehow, in this economy) feeling flush, why not kick in here too? I want my writing here to be free forever, but your contributions really do help keep the server lights on.

Thank you, as always, for reading. I hope to be back sooner than a three-month unplanned hiatus: the New Year is upon us, and it’s like catnip to the self-improvement-obsessed. I have something coming up to mark the occasion that I think you’ll like. In the meantime, feel free to say gidday in the comments, it’s been a hot minute but I’d love to hear from you.

To close, here are are some wise words from my four-year-old who got interested in the laptop while I was writing this.

wqbo1`12434456789-0
stop
go

So there you are. Stop, go. And a very Merry Christmas to you all.