“You have to learn to get up from the table when love is no longer being served.”
— Nina Simone —
Hello, and my very best to you and yours.
Here are 3 things I've been thinking about over the last few days that I'm excited to share with you.
***
on refusing to bend
I stumbled across a short clip from a 1968 interview with legendary-everything, Nina Simone. It hit me hard. She was asked what the word freedom meant to her.
Here's her response —
“I’ll tell you what freedom means to me: no fear.
I mean really no fear.
If I could have that for half of my life... no fear.
Lots of children have no fear. That’s the closest way. That’s the only way to describe it. That’s not all of it. But it is something to really, really feel.”
Maybe it’s just my feed, but these days it seems like every “solopreneur” is preaching that freedom means financial independence. The ability to do what you want, when you want, from wherever you want.
But what if freedom has nothing to do with that? What if true freedom is an internal state — a feeling?
Simone was no stranger to fear, but she showed up anyway. She started her career as a classically trained pianist and was told she'd never belong in that white-dominated world. A Black woman performing protest songs in the middle of the Civil Rights movement. Songs that could get her banned. Or worse.
And yet, she didn’t bend. When they told her to smile on stage, she scowled. When they told her to make her music less political and more “palatable,” she belted Mississippi Goddam — the ultimate protest song.
Simone wasn’t trying to be difficult. She was trying to stay human in a system that wanted her to play nice. Be talented, but not too loud. Move people, but don’t make them uncomfortable.
But she refused. And because of that, Simone didn’t just entertain — she shook people awake.
In a world obsessed with polish, she stayed raw.
In an industry that bends artists into safer shapes, she stayed jagged.
There’s this strange pressure today to make ourselves a little easier to digest. When you feel this urge, steal a line from Simone and, despite your fears, don't flinch.
Say your thing.
Sing your note.
Make your art.
In essence, be real.
That’s where true freedom lives.
***
on ditching the blueprint
For nine months a year, I live in my version of paradise. Beaches a few blocks away. Kids' school, park, shops, everything I’d ever need, a block away. Best of all, it’s far from crowded. I can get anywhere I want to go within a few minutes while seeing a very manageable number of people, many of whom I’m on a first-name basis with.
Every June, however, our little Costa Brava town begins to feel like a pack of sardines. And gets even more jammed through July and August.
But all's not lost. Some of those visitors are quite interesting. This is particularly true of an older man who struck up a conversation with me while sharing the same park bench.
Turns out, the guy spent the first half of his career as a writer before becoming obsessed with interior design and devoting the last twenty years to the craft. We got to talking about work, life, and the often daunting, but strange beauty of starting over.
He said a lot of wise things in our brief time together, but the one that has stuck with me is this —
“The hardest part isn’t knowing what you want.
It’s staying open to the idea that it might change.”
So many of us carry blueprints that we feel obligated to follow. But sometimes, we miss the whispering invitations to start building something new. Or worse, we feel the pull but reject it because we lack the courage to go off-plan.
I don’t know about you, but most of the meaningful parts of my life and career showed up when I ditched the blueprint and followed my nose toward something new that I wanted to smell.
We all have aspects of our “life blueprint” that feel more like IKEA instructions than intuition.
If you’ve got 15 minutes this week, grab a pen, a napkin, or the back of your kid’s homework, and scribble on what you’re curious about now. What feels alive, even if it scares you a little?
This doesn’t mean you have to blow up your plan in its entirety and do it permanently. It’s simply an exercise to entertain the idea of a different possibility.
Who knows, maybe that tug isn’t a detour, but a path worth pursuing.
Maybe, just maybe, that’s when the real magic walks in.
***
on being open-minded
A few summers back, my family and I were hiking in the Pyrenees. Since we were on vacation, we wanted to splurge a little for lunch. But by the time we got back to the small town we were staying in, everything was closed.
Well, everything except a place called Frankfurter.
From the outside, it didn’t look like much. Inside, it looked even less promising. A basic menu on the wall. A few worn wooden tables. A long, makeshift bar. Not a single customer in sight. I was convinced I'd be throwing money down the drain for a soggy hot dog.
But after scanning the menu again, something caught my eye. "Hey," I said to my wife, "that sounds like a cheesesteak!" — the food I miss most from growing up in Pennsylvania.
And before she had a chance to reply, the owner shouted from behind the bar — “Philadelphia!”
It turns out he’d visited the city of brotherly love back in the day and became obsessed with the sandwich.
One bite in, I immediately ordered another. It was, without a doubt, the best cheesesteak I’ve ever had. And I found it in a hot dog shop, in a 400-person town, tucked into the middle of the Pyrenees.
We’re quick to size things up. To judge books by their covers. People by their appearances. Restaurants by their facades.
But every now and then, life gives us a reminder: what you think is “nothing special” might just surprise you if you give it a chance.
It makes me wonder how many things I’ve dismissed too quickly. How many people, ideas, and places — all because they didn’t match the initial story I'd concocted in my mind.
Maybe you’ve had a moment like that too, when something you almost skipped turned out to be unforgettable.
So next time your gut says, “Meh,” maybe stick around a minute longer.
You never know, that unimpressive hot dog shop in the middle of nowhere might just serve you the best damn cheesesteak of your life.
***
That's it for today.
Keep your eyes peeled for a message next week. And until then, don't bend, let go of the blueprint, and stay open.
Onwards.
—Michael
PS: The best way to help me keep the lights on and to keep newsletters like this one free is to grab a copy of my book and leave an honest review on Amazon.
Shy by Design: 12 Timeless Principles to Quietly Stand Out
“In a world that lionizes loudness, it's actually the quiet and shy among us who are best set up to thrive. Thompson provides an important new way of understanding what it really takes to stand out!”
―Cal Newport, NYTimes bestselling author of Deep Work and Slow Productivity
It makes for a great gift for any of your shy or reserved friends, colleagues, and family members who have something to say but struggle to bet on themselves.
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