Less "Touch Grass" And More "Catch Bumper"

things I said I didn't remember but really like

With special thanks to @adamsussman on Twitter who captured this screen shot of me, I think I discovered a new personal slogan via my appearance on the Essence of Investing podcast with Jonathan Rechtman from last year:

The expression "touch grass" has always felt like an oversimplified prescription for a complex condition to me. It’s too bumper stickery or worse - like those inspirational quotes painted on reclaimed barn wood at Target. And it's not that reconnecting with nature isn't valuable, it's just that some of us are wired differently (or as my last therapist used to say, “you’re just different in a different way, Matt”).

I've come to understand myself as less of a zen gardener and found more as a kindred spirit to our dogs, with their unwavering dedication to barking at passing cars and other objects. My ADHD brain isn't just distracted by things out of my reach - it's a finely-tuned chase machine, head under the blinds, nose to the window, leaning against the resistance of the leash, complete with a metaphorical wagging tail and the boundless enthusiasm of puppy energy. That internal dog doesn't just get distracted, it transforms every passing stimulus into an irresistible pursuit, with each new project becoming a shiny bumper begging to be caught.

Here's the thing about actually catching those metaphorical cars though: reality rarely matches the thrill of the chase. I've had my share of successful "catches" - projects conquered, goals achieved - only to find myself standing there thinking, "Well, this isn't quite what I imagined." More than a few of my victory laps have ended with unexpected trips to the metaphorical dentist’s office.

The real epiphany came when I realized that my joy wasn't in the catching - it was in the elegant chaos of the pursuit itself. That understanding forced me to reimagine my relationship with my own creative impulses. Instead of trying to suppress my chase instinct, I learned to channel it, to choose my pursuits more carefully. Not every passing car needs to become an epic chase sequence.

These days, I still work with that same dogged enthusiasm, but now I like to see myself as having some of the wisdom of one who's tasted their fair share of bumpers. Sure, "touching grass" has its place, but sometimes the deeper wisdom comes from understanding your own nature and learning to work with it rather than against it.

You don’t have to completely tame the dog in you - you just have to become a smarter runner, choosing better races, and knowing when to let cars pass by. Because at the end of the day, the most valuable lessons don't come from forced mindfulness, but from learning to dance with your own nature while keeping all your teeth where they belong - firmly in your mouth, rather than embedded in someone else’s bumper.

Extra thanks to Kris Abdelmessih for sharing this interview online again too, otherwise I never would have remembered myself saying this!

“What if we try catching the bumper on a boat, is that a good idea Mom? Dad thinks it’s a good idea to try. Right, Dad? Why is Mom shaking her head in disapproval again Dad, is she OK? Let’s goooooooooo!”