Venus files

She was, of course, the Roman goddess of love, beauty and probably traumatised by a v.hectic origin story (look up the specifics but it involves castration and the creation of our goddess from foaming seas). But despite her violent and salty start, Venus had a whole roster of skills to her credit: immortality, shapeshifting, the ability to alter the course of a battle, transfiguring humans, and more!

Our goddess probably didn’t spend hours doomscrolling, planning her next purchase, or second guessing her life choices. Sometimes I wonder how the gods of Olympus would handle this time and space we find ourselves in. Would Venus have a podcast? A verified @Venus Instagram handle? So I’ve been thinking recently…WWVD (What Would Venus Do)? In times of fairly salty tumult, how does one inject a bit of pleasure and beauty into every day?

I read an interview with the writer Elizabeth Gilbert recently in which she said:

“I feel like I’m really actually beginning to understand what spiritual practices are really for, especially meditation and centring prayer and journaling and all that stuff. It’s building the ark before the flood. So, on a normal day, on a normal mundane day…what is your 30 minutes of meditation really about? But then a pandemic hits or there’s a death in the family or you lose your job or marriage ends. All of a sudden the world doesn’t feel mundane anymore, it feels like it’s raining hammers and then you’ve got this boat that you’ve built for yourself — these steady practices that create a through line, a continual sense of routine and a continual sense of connection to source.”

That line stuck with me, ‘building the ark before the flood’.

Because on the daily, when I’m consumed by career and schedule, it can feel pretty decadent to be thinking about a connection to the cosmic. I’ve always had some shame around it but found it easier somehow to sub in frenetic self betterment: boutique fitness and biohacking and nutrition… that stuff is societally-sanctioned, but cultivating awe? I’d be mortified.

But then suddenly you find yourself in a storm, and find you’re pretty grateful you built an ark, with practices, rituals and habits that keep you steady(ish) through the choppiest waters.

The rain barrels I put in place to catch any overflow assist me in life’s drier seasons. Embellishing my ark involves simplifying, getting clear, and looking at how I live every day of my life, because I’m learning the day to day is life.

Have you heard about Bryan Johnson?

Google him for all the juice, but in a nutshell: Johnson is a middle-aged almost-billionaire who’s spending $2m (and counting) each year in pursuit of eternal youth.

As described in the UK’s Sunday Times, Johnson has received plasma infusions from his 17-year-old son, had “33,537 images of his bowels” taken, and every square inch of his body, from skin and hair to bowels and bones, is being tended to, trialled and tested. Plus at some point in this experiment a product or program will emerge that will create a blueprint for anybody to use.

But does it work? Well, Johnson says that apparently “for every 365 days, I age 277 days,” whatever that means. Even if you’re interesting in biohacking or self-optimisation or whatever you want to call it, when you consider what it entails to gain those 88 days, you have to ask, is it worth it? I am all about eating well and working out to stave off disease and decrepitude, but staying alive to 180 (that one is the goal of other v.rich biohacker Dave Asprey)… I mean, what would you even do?

As someone who is old enough to see the effects of aging on my body, but young and child-free enough to have the time to do things about it, I’ve thought often: how much is too much? We live in very weird times where, if you’re not making concerted effort toward not turning into a chairbound lunatic, it’s very easy to become one. So I suppose it’s a matter of deciding what has value to you. Is it longevity? Is it longevity paired with health? Is it just health, and ensuring you’re able bodied and mobile and independent, no matter how long that might be? (This one, I pick this one.)

But if you’re curious and want to follow along with Brian, have at it. A blueprint for women is coming, apparently, but until then gentlemen, if you do get into it, I’d love to hear how it goes.

It’s not possible to experience constant euphoria, but if you’re grateful, you can find happiness in everything.

—
PHARELL

Rick Rubin’s podcast is live!

Rubin is a legendary music producer, the co-founder of Def Jam Recordings, and the man behind countless hits, from the Beastie Boys and Jay-Z to Neil Young. His pod’s called Tetragrammaton, and predictably, this is no ordinary podcast.

Even the ads are fucking cool.

In recent years the producer’s come to be known for his artistic wisdom, sage observations that are both gnomic, insightful, and pertinent. This episode with Joe Dispenza is a favourite, just two cool guys shooting the shit and talking about fever dreams, brain wave states, rewriting the stories we tell ourselves and becoming the creators of our lives.

Y’know, the light stuff.

I am a morning person.

It’s my favourite time of day, and when I’m sharpest and most switched-on.

If you’re not a morning person though, don’t sweat it. There’s this persistent idea that dominates, that being a morning person is the key to personal and professional success, that makes people who are inherently late sleepers feel like they ‘should’ be waking earlier, and just like a bit of failure, really.

For them, there is research now that will tell you what your body has probably been saying all along: being a morning or evening person is down to your chronotype. You were born this way.

You probably already know whether you are inherently a morning person or a night owl, but in his book ‘The Power of When’ sleep expert Dr Michael Breus talks about sleep chronotypes, sort of the next step in circadian rhythms. Your circadian rhythm determines, over a 24-hour period, when you’re alert and when you’re sleepy. If you’ve ever flown or had jetlag, you know this term already. Everybody’s circadian rhythms are slightly different and Breus essentially drills these down into four chronotypes, each linked to an animal whose sleep-wake habits best mirror them.

Knowing and acknowledging your chronotype means you can stop trying to make yourself rise at the crack of dawn when your body might function more optimally on a later sleep-wake routine.

Take the quiz here to see which one you are.