I spent sixteen minutes this morning plucking each seed out of a pomegranate to make my smoothie.

Sixteen minutes trying to delicately remove each tiny little jewel of fruit as to not pop it.

Sixteen minutes being relentlessly sprayed with crimson juice so dense it could have dyed a pashmina.

My white robe I literally just OxiClean'd looks like the cover of a murder mystery novel.

Sixteen minutes.

The smoothie was ‘meh’ 😂 

Which got me thinking: why do we do this to ourselves?

Pomegranates. Mangoes. Acai bowls. Anything that comes in a mason jar at a farmer's market. We see it on Instagram looking effortless and aesthetic, so we think "yeah, I'll be that person."

Note: She will not be that person.

There's this whole category of things that LOOK simple and elegant but are actually a full-on production — Eating crab legs. Folding a fitted sheet. Canceling a subscription service. Parallel parking in front of witnesses.

We convince ourselves many things are worth it because they seem fancy or healthy or good on paper or like the kind of thing a person with their shit together would do. And then we're sixteen minutes deep, covered in fresh carnage, wondering why we didn't just buy the pre-seeded container at Whole Foods for $8.

Sometimes the juice isn't worth the squeeze. Literally.

The Hustle

I’ve realized there's a difference between things that are actually worth the effort and things we convince ourselves are worth the effort because they look good.

Pomegranates fall squarely in the second category.

So do a lot of other things we do because they seem like what successful, put-together people do: Morning routines with seventeen steps. Meal prep Sundays. Skincare routines that require a PhD. Networking events where you pretend to care about someone's startup, clutching a warm glass of white wine, while people you don’t want to talk to corner you and force pitches on you to qualify themselves for no reason other than to convince themselves they, too, belong here.

We see someone else making it look easy and think "I should be doing that." And then we're knee-deep in the process, realizing it's actually three times harder than anticipated and we're not even sure we wanted the outcome in the first place.

The hustle culture loves to tell us that everything worth having requires struggle. And sure, some things do. For a time.

I'm in that era now where I've decided things don't have to be difficult. Making them difficult is a choice. One I made this morning. Oops.

I’ve outgrown the need to panic my way through situations or stress myself out for absolutely zero reason. I just handle my shit, or F up and move along.

Choice: Ease. Chill. Gravy.

Like having to follow Nikki Glaser on stage at the Hollywood Improv last week while she ran her new Golden Globes opening monologue. And crushing my set despite following one of the biggest names in comedy right now. Because I decided it wasn’t difficult.

My talk at the AI in Hollywood conference went over even better than expected last week, and the entire event opened up a lot of conversation surrounding effort vs. reward in the future of tech and creativity.

Peep the email I received post-event from the event producer:

Sixteen minutes on stage.

Some things are worth sixteen minutes. Some things are worth sixteen sleepless hours to curate without any live rehearsal. Some things make some key players in Hollywood want to strike up a convo with you after.

And some things? Some things are just pomegranates.

Knowing the difference is the whole game.

The Chill

This week feels big.

Not in a chaotic, running-around way like last week.

In a quiet, liminal way.

My TED talk releases next week on December 23rd — exactly one year to the day that I lost my best friend unexpectedly. The loss that set this newsletter, my talk, and so much of my thoughtful work into motion.

Loss will make you do that — redesign your ‘why.’

Oh and of course, there’s Christmas next week. Fam hangs. Watching nieces and nephews unwrap presents for 3 hours.

Three very different things happening at once, and somehow they all require the same thing from me: presence.

I've been moving so fast for so long that this last year has been more focused on big sprints broken up by intentional resets.

I need to be still for a second. Let myself feel whatever's coming up without immediately trying to hamster-wheel myself into the next ‘thing.’

Next year is going to be big. I can feel it. Not because of manifestation or vision boards, but because I've been building toward something and it's finally starting to take shape.

But before I can step into that, I need to honor where I am right now. The other side of grief. The gratitude for opportunity and creativity. The anticipation of things in the pipeline. All of it sitting in the same room together.

So this week? I'm choosing ease, but a different kind than the one that comes in the midst of grind.

Not because I'm checking out, but because I'm checking IN. No unnecessary struggle.

Just showing up for what actually matters.

Upcoming Shows

Save the date. TED talk releases on TED global platforms Tuesday December 23rd at 1pm EST. I’m really excited for you to see it.

Love you all and cheers to the hustle + chill. We will let someone else craft our smoothies from now on…

xx NPH