This site has a fresh coat of paint, with an assist from a classic WordPress starter theme (plus trial and error). I’m thrilled with how it came out and found a sense of joy in making something again. WordPress, for me, has always been an expedient way to say, “Hello world” with code.
Tinkering in code and a renewed daily journal habit have rekindled a desire to publish on a more regular basis. My goal is to post every week-ish and my hope is that I take more photos and better document what I learn.
My team at work was in Dublin this week for a meetup. We met in D.C. earlier this year and this week was a chance to reflect on 2025 and look ahead to 2026. Distributed teams are fantastic and time in-person together is vital. It’s the combination of the two that feels special as it imbues a sense of energy into day-to-day work.
I’m thinking a lot about friction as a couple coincidental blog posts spurred this. There’s this post about choosing friction. Setting aside the AI parts of it, I found this bit meaningful as I think the sentiment goes deeper than the latest tech:
It is so easy in our rotten modernity to choose convenience and ease, to avoid friction at all costs and tell ourselves it is self-care…I worry that if I forget how to be uncomfortable, I will forget how to grow.
There’s then a similar notion in Kyla Scanlon’s post:
This is what a frictionless world looks like. Everything accelerates, until you forget what it means to try.
When I think about what brings meaning into my life it’s not what comes as a result of moving faster nor fitting more in. Meaning comes when I slow down and absorb myself in something. The friction, slowness, and inefficiency is often to be cherished, not escaped.
Letting this idea inform my own tool usage has helped. A black and white home screen made it less of a dopamine factory. Turning off predictive text forced me to slow down and think when I write with my thumbs. Using small, purposeful apps like iA Writer and NetNewsWire focused my attention. My habits haven’t changed, per se, but my level of calm has increased and I can feel my brain unwind its twitchy circuits.
It feels easy to diagnose the ills of the modern world yet harder to be constructive about what to do. Cherishing friction feels like something that helps in a way that goes beyond nostalgia. It points toward things that are worth doing, even when they are inefficient.
