🐥The Paradox of Now #14

Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared of the Bathplug

Hi people!

Last week, three different people told me, separately, they read my newsletter in the bath.

One of them even confided in me that they actively choose to sit at the end where the bathplug is.

I saw this as a lovely compliment... and one that I just did not expect to hear.

I don’t usually think about where or when people read this. I'm just grateful you do, even if you're half-soaked and pruney.

I’d love to hear where and when you’re reading this. Message me or leave a comment when you fill out today’s poll.

Now let me give you a taste of what's coming:

🐥 The book that sparked this whole journey
🐥 Thoughts on energy drinks and litter-picking
🐥 What is colour?

🥚Eggstra News🥚

Your weekly dose of some fascinating and fun finds:

📘How to Win Friends and Influence People – The first book I read when I knew life needed to change. The rock that kicked off the avalanche, or however the saying goes.

🩲MyProtein Boxers – Weirdly great boxers. Comfy, durable, and now half my mates wear them. Also, ladies… boxers = underrated birthday gift.

🎨 Bob Ross – My uni sleep soundtrack. Soothing voice, happy little trees, and hair that deserved its own show.

The Paradox of Now 

Support a Hero (and His Shins)

I have a friend who once sent a voice-note that sounded like he was:

"walking next to a horse."
(That was just his footsteps)

This is the same guy who wears shin compression sleeves to play pickleball - a sport famous for being easy on the body.

Now, he’s running a 10k for MND. His poor shins have never known fear like this.

Support him. Support the cause. Support the shins.

I’m also on the following social media channels:

• Instagram - The Paradox of Now

• LinkedIn - Scott Mayo

Want to feature here? Message me on socials and let’s see what we can do.

Redbull-Sh*t

When I work from home, I always try to go for a walk on my lunch break. There's a little loop I do.

No headphones. No distractions. No destination. No goal.

Just the atelic act of walking.

I got this idea from Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkman.

He reminds us that acts such as these tether us to the present, where life truly happens.

Too often we are obsessed with outcome, usefulness and efficiency.

But it’s the purposeless moments that matter.

They are a reminder that we are not machines designed for achieving, but beings meant for being.

Ironically, it’s these atelic, purposeless acts that give the mind space to find itself in the chaos of life.

Even the great philosophers got it.

Nietzsche said he didn't trust any thought that hadn’t come to him while walking.

And honestly, I get it. Some of my clearest ideas don’t arrive when I force them - they show up when I’m just moving.

And I am sure you have these moments too.

This very body of writing? It came from one of those walks.

The Litter Loop

On a walk not too long ago, something broke my peaceful rhythm - litter.

Lots of it.

Scattered across the path, the bushes and the grass.

I'm no eco-warrior, but if there’s one thing that annoys me, it's litter.

It feels like a symbol of giving up. Of laziness. Of not caring enough to walk twenty more steps to the many bins along the path.

Once I noticed it, I couldn’t unsee it. I had no choice but to look closer.

I started paying attention - not just to the amount, but to what was being thrown away.

Patterns began to form in my mind.

And because I'm a predictable idiot, I decided to gamify it.

Turn my atelic walk into a little experiment. Only for a short period of time.

I borrowed a litter-picker from my dad (why he owns one, I still have no idea), and set myself some rules:

• Choose a litter category each day.

• Only collect what’s accessible from the path.

• Stick to the same loop.

Categories:

1. Fizzy drinks

2. Crisp packets

3. Sweat packets

4. Alcohol

5. Energy drinks

6. Water bottles

7. ‘Healthy’ food packaging

It was like Pokémon Go, but for society’s rubbish.

And the category that dominated?

Energy drinks.

By far.

Energy Drinks Aren't the Enemy

Even after picking up bags full of empty cans, a month later, the loop looked just as bad.

As if I'd never been there at all.

At first, I thought:

But the longer I sat with it, the more I realised:

They're not the problem.

They’re just a symptom.

The real issue is a culture that convinces us our exhaustion can be fixed with caffeine in a can.

That being permanently tired is “normal.”

That instead of sleeping, hydrating, moving, and living better - we should just keep patching the cracks.

To be clear, I am not anti-caffeine. I personally drink it rarely, but understand why people do consume it.

And I know some people will push back:

"Yeah, but you don't have kids."

"Yeah, but you don’t do manual labour."

"Yeah, but the caffeine genuinely makes a difference."

And honestly? Fair points.

I’m not pretending to know everyone's battles.

But personally I think we’re not tired because of a lack of caffeine.

We’re tired because we’re running lives that our bodies and minds were never designed to keep up with.

No drink is going to fix that. No ‘Monster’ or ‘Red Bull’ can save you from a life that drains in the long-run.

Living Proof

I’m not speaking from some perfect mountain-top.

I’ve been the person I’m describing. I still have moments where I am that person.

Not with an energy drink in hand - but definitely with that same spirit of frustration, fatigue, and feeling like the world was against me.

I used to wait.

Wait for someone to save me.

Wait for perfect circumstances.

Wait for energy to magically appear.

But it never came.

What did come, eventually, was the realisation:

That I had to start tiny, invisible habits, when nobody was looking.

When nobody cared (spoiler: they still don’t care)

It wasn’t quick.

It wasn’t easy.

But it was possible.

And it still is.

For anyone.

Helping My Small Corner of the World

This newsletter exists to help my small corner of the world.

It’s taken me a while to know how to describe it and it’s still evolving, like all of us.

But right now, it’s this:

If even one person reading this lifts their head, takes a breath, and thinks,

Then I have done my job.

And weirdly enough, it all started with a bit of litter.

More proof that creativity is hidden within the ordinary.

Maybe we just need to slow down.

Maybe we need more boredom.

Maybe we need more atelic acts.

And as random as this journey might seem - jumping from walks, to litter, to energy drinks, to personal battles - that's exactly how my brain works.

SO GET USED TO IT!

Like Tame Impala’s music on a long afternoon drive or in a hostel in Amsterdam.

You understand parts of it.
You get lost inside some of it.
You can feel all of it.

Even when you can't explain it.

You’ve survived everything up to now.

Even this piece of writing.

Bravo.

So go and survive some more and help your small corner of the world.

One atelic act at a time.

P.S. I don’t care if you are doing it buzzed off your head on caffeine either. No judgment here.

🐥 Haiku’s Haiku 🐥

Haiku’s keeping his beak tightly shut this week.

We’ve been working on something exciting together, and it’s nearly ready to share.

Let’s just say... it’s all about re-framing.

🌴 Palm Tree Euphoria 🌴

I saw a quote this week from the charity Big Moose I featured a while back.

It was a beautiful nature photo that simply said:

Beautiful, right?

And it reminded me of a question I’ve had for years and still don’t have a solid answer for:

Surely one of you clever Dashing Ducks has a pragmatic, rational answer. Or at least a passionate theory.

Either way, it’s a good conversation starter next time you’re out galivanting in your own blues and greens.

See you next week.

P.S. if you liked this week’s worth of gibberish, forward it to a fellow duckling you care about.

Word of beak is how we help improve our small corner of the world.

Doing so gets you a FREE gift!