1. Doubt. Everything could turn out fine, sure, but what if it doesn’t? To avoid disappointment, choose doubt as a default posture. Doubt the future, doubt others, and doubt your own abilities. Cling to the life preserver of low expectations and “believe it when you see it.”
2. Assume the worst. Of others and of yourself. “There ain’t no free lunch,” so if you help someone else or are helped by them, ascribe an ulterior motive. To be safe, help others as little as possible.
3. Feed your fear. If you read widely, deeply, and often, you’re likely to get smarter. Don’t do this. Ignore the wisdom of the ages, and instead, stay hyper-current on each day’s news (which is designed to stoke your fears by hijacking your attention and directing it to negative events over which you have no control). Let fleeting trivia push aside “monuments of unageing intellect.”
4. Focus on what’s wrong. Look for negative events, and interpret them as evidence that the world is a hostile, dangerous place. Write off positive events as exceptions. If everyone around you starts to seem vaguely menacing, you’re on the right track!
5. Embrace tribalism. See the world as simple. “We’re right and they’re idiots” should be your attitude. If things start looking too complex, revisit point #3.

To make your life better, flip each step on its head.

As we discussed on Tuesday, it’s easy to feel bad about what we’re doing or not doing. Here, let me demonstrate.

I used to exercise regularly. I’ve run a half marathon. I’ve biked across Iowa—twice. I’m accustomed to being in good shape.

But with a 15-month-old daughter, I find myself completely sedentary. I know I should return to regular exercise, but in the immediate future, that doesn’t seem to be in the cards. Daily exercise takes a good deal of time, and it’s going to be a few weeks until I can find that time. I should be doing it, but I’m not.

Everything by longevity tends to get off course. Everything needs to be corrected. — Jim Rohn

Mowing the lawn may be tedious, but we don’t get upset about it. Lawns get shaggy, so we mow them.

An oil change is a chore, but it’s no evidence of a personal failing. Motor oil gets dirty, so we replace it.

No one feels bad about needing a dental cleaning twice a year. Teeth grow plaque, so we have it removed.

Yesterday, a colleague and I hosted a professional development event for ~40 colleagues. We invited three amazing speakers, brought in catering, and rolled out the red carpet. The event went great—couldn’t have gone better, actually—but what interests me today is one person’s response to how I advertised the event.

I don’t like to get much email (except from you readers), so I try not to send any more than is strictly necessary. A couple weeks ago, I sent an email announcement about the event to the group of ~45 faculty I thought might be interested. I planned to leave it there, but my co-planner suggested I send a second email a week before and a third email the week of the event (this week). This is not my style, but I acquiesced. This colleague knows our organizational culture inside and out, and I figured she might know what she was talking about.

To-do lists deteriorate over time.

Maybe you’ve noticed. Have you ever looked at your to-do list and found it clogged with old tasks that are either unimportant, hopelessly vague, or no longer relevant? These tasks slow us down, make our lists long and unwieldy, and induce pangs of guilt when we’re trying to be productive.

Give yourself permission to delete these tasks. Scratch ‘em right off that list.

Purging old tasks is essential to maintaining any well-lubricated personal productivity system. The fact is, our priorities and circumstance change over time, and our to-do lists should reflect those changes.