About These Posts

Each day I add a new journal entry to my social media feeds. Here, I take that day’s entry and expand it through the lens of my Good Life Creed, which you can read about in my book Going Alone (available for free on this website). These dissections aim to connect ordinary reflections with the enduring objectives and principles of the Creed.

Journal Entry (10/05/25)

It was a good day at the antique flea market yesterday. It’s taken a few weeks to shift my perspective—from seeing through the eyes of an antique dealer to simply being a fan of what’s on display. I went deliberately with that intention, to stop hunting for things that might sell in my store and instead to just look, to enjoy. And it worked.

The whole experience slowed down. I moved through the stalls like a museum visitor, pausing at each table, noticing details instead of price tags. I gave myself a ¥2000 yen ($13.00) budget—too little to buy anything serious—so money drifted out of mind. I spent more time walking with my wife and her sister, sharing the moment rather than scanning for inventory.

It felt different—lighter somehow. A shift in pace, in purpose, in self. I think this is one of the quiet benefits of a dream that’s been let go: the freedom to simply enjoy what once felt like work.

Dissection

This reflection captures the peace that comes when ambition loosens its grip and an old pursuit becomes play again. The transformation from “dealer” to “observer” represents not just a change of activity, but a deeper recalibration of purpose.

In the language of the Creed, three ideas surface clearly:

#Time (Make Good and Effective Use of Time): The decision to wander slowly, to engage with the day without pressure or profit, embodies the best use of time—being present without striving.

#Balance (The Objective of Balance): By trading the pace of commerce for the rhythm of enjoyment, a new equilibrium is found—between doing and being, between purpose and peace.

#Social (The Social Principle): Companionship replaces competition. The joy of simply being with family transforms a solitary enterprise into shared memory.

Takeaway

There’s a kind of freedom that comes only when certain ambitions are released. When a dream runs its course and is allowed to end, what remains can be gentler and more human. Sometimes the best use of our time isn’t to push forward—but to linger, unhurried, among the things we once chased.